To Finish the Revolution
by sagebrush-soap-opera
Summary: PostShishio. The Meiji era is turning out to be anything but peaceful, and Kenshin has taken up his sword again to follow a new guiding principle: Aku Soku Zan. But with a broken vow, how can he keep his inner hitokiri tightly reined?
1. Chapter 1: Prologue

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, the setting, the time period, or even the plot that has gone before. Also, I have no money. It will be a pointless effort in malicious spite to sue me over this piece of _fan fiction_.

Chapter 1: Prologue

1878 Meiji 11, October

Not for the first time, Kenshin regretted the wanderer's mentality that prevented him from owning more clothes than a single change of gi and hakama. The rains had been heavy this past week, and the umbrella he'd borrowed from Kaoru only kept his head and torso dry. He cast a brief, envious glance at the young man who ran past wearing a kappa and carrying a cloth-wrapped bundle. Even those travelers who were adequately protected from the rain were in a hurry to escape under a roof. He sighed. The market was only another mile away, and he could perhaps beg a cup of hot tea from Tae before returning to the dojo. It would be warmth enough, and cheaply obtained.

If it weren't for the rain, he might have brought Ayame and Suzume along for this chore. The girls could brighten even this dull and soggy day, and he could have used the company to keep his mind off of the current turbulence. But he couldn't risk them catching chill, and given the string of recent attacks in Tokyo, chill was the least of the potential dangers. This month alone he'd had to intervene in no fewer than seven disturbances, and Tokyo's jail now housed two dozen more men than it would have had he not gotten involved. To be sure, Saitou was thankful when he brought them in, or as thankful as the wolf knew how to be. But the increasing level of crime was worrisome to Kenshin.

He'd thought that, with Shishio gone, the government would settle down and continue on the path toward peaceful stability. It had done nothing of the sort. Newspapers ran stories of uprisings in the countryside, of increased yakuza activity, of coming turmoil. Every day the rumors grew more disturbing and the people more restive. It was as if Shishio had been a lid on a bubbling pot, and without that lid, the chaos had no boundaries.

He consciously relaxed, his jaw aching from his grimace. It would serve no purpose to get riled up before anything happened. He could do nothing here on the outskirts of town, and his mission at the moment was only to purchase tofu for this afternoon's lunch. These thoughts would only put him in a bad mood, and that was never productive. Saitou was handling the situation in Tokyo, and Kenshin knew of none better suited to the task. Let Saito do his job and Kenshin buy tofu. If today went peacefully enough, he wouldn't have to see the man at all.

Soon there were more people scurrying about, jostling each other in their hurry to get indoors. As tightly packed as their owners, a multitude of umbrellas formed a canopy against the rain. Kenshin shook his head with a bemused frown as he realized his umbrella was catching more runoff from other, higher umbrellas than rain. Another drawback of being short, one he rarely remembered.

He almost passed the tofu stall before he managed to disengage himself from the current of shoppers, and gladly stepped under the stall's thatched roof. "Please," he began, "pardon the inconvenience of this one's—"

"Have your own bucket, lad?"

"Aa." He ducked his head and held out the battered tofu bucket he'd brought with him, murmuring an "oro" when he saw it filled with rainwater. A flick of his wrist emptied the bucket, and he again extended it toward the tofu merchant.

She returned a moment later with the newly filled bucket, now with two blocks of tofu swimming in the water. "Anything else? A new bucket, perhaps, to replace your old and splintering one?"

Kenshin smiled and shook his head, placing the coins he'd brought in her hand. "Arigato. This old bucket will do, that it will."

As Kenshin turned toward the Akabeko for the tea he'd promised himself, he felt a clump of hostile ki in the distance. It wasn't an unusual feeling since he'd returned from Kyoto, but it still merited an investigation. He only hoped the tofu would survive any encounter he was drawn into.

The last time he'd felt this, there had been infighting among the yakuza right in the middle of the street. Those civilians who hadn't gotten away soon enough had been used as shields. He had managed to disrupt the fighting long enough for Saitou to arrive, and together, they'd taken down the fighters. Aside from some broken bones and cuts, none of the civilians had been too seriously hurt. The yakuza involved had not been so lucky, and none had walked away from the scene. He recalled with distinct disapproval that the yakuza Saitou had fought would never be walking again, or doing much of anything, for that matter.

Kenshin's eyes narrowed as shots rang out, followed by screams, and he elbowed his way toward the commotion. Perhaps he'd be seeing more of Saitou today than he'd planned.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, the setting, the time period, or even the plot that has gone before. Also, I have no money. It will be a pointless effort in malicious spite to sue me over this piece of _fan fiction_.

Chapter 2

Kaoru stared at the falling rain from the shelter of the dojo's porch. She almost regretted sending Kenshin out into the downpour, but he'd insisted she not get wet. Of course, Kaoru knew the real reason behind his resolve. The streets of Tokyo were not at all the same anymore. He was worried about her safety. This overprotective tendency was a part of Kenshin that she both loved and loathed.

She heard Yahiko come up behind her, apparently finished with his morning practice. He sat down next to her, shinai balanced across his knees.

"When's Kenshin getting back?" he groused. "I'm hungry."

"He'll get back when he gets back, Yahiko, so stop complaining. I didn't hear you volunteer to get the tofu," she snapped.

"He's probably off in a corner with some _girl_ staying dry. That's where I'd be if _I_—"

Her bokken shut him up before he finished the thought.

"Hey, what'd you do that for? I was only kidding." He rubbed his head. "You may be ugly, but Kenshin's not the kind of guy to run off and leave us without any tofu."

"Yahiko," she warned.

The boy sighed and slumped back against a post. "Where _is _he?"

"Hey, Jou-chan!" Sanosuke ran up to the porch, his hands splayed across the top of his head as an impromptu covering. "What's for lunch?"

Both Kaoru and Yahiko glared at him.

"Don't tell me you've already eaten?!" he protested. "I'm right on time. You guys never eat this early. Come on, what's he in there cooking?" He squinted toward the kitchen.

"Kenshin's not back with the tofu," Yahiko muttered as he crossed his arms. "You'll have to wait with the rest of us."

"Not back yet? When'd he leave?"

Kaoru stood and put her fists on her hips. "I hardly see why a freeloader like yourself has any right to be upset over a late lunch. You're getting it for free, you know." But Sano was right. And Yahiko. Kenshin had been gone far too long to buy tofu. There must have been another problem in town. She hoped he was safe.

Sano apparently saw the worry in her eyes, because he dropped his freeloader act and sat down. "I'm sure he's okay. He's Kenshin. It's not like he's fighting Shishio over a bucket of tofu. It's probably just crowded, is all."

They were quiet for a while, watching the rain come down and looking for a pink and white figure in the distance. Each considered implications of Kenshin running late.

The newspaper this morning had commented on the rise in crime, claiming the government to be unsuitable. One article had demanded the sword ban be lifted so that people could protect themselves if the police weren't going to. It was a lot to think about. Things seemed to be spiraling out of control, and that was the opposite of how it should be.

Sano broke the silence in a subdued voice. "Katsu says the yakuza's getting more organized. That they're teaming up and making alliances and stuff. To take over while the government is still weak from Okubo's death."

"But we beat Shishio and the Juppongatana," Yahiko insisted. "That should have stopped all this. Right?"

Kaoru shook her head. "Shishio was a threat, certainly. But apparently not the only one."

"That's what Katsu says." _And what Kenshin said_, Sano thought. _The revolution isn't over_.

A flash of lightening showed a kappa-clad figure running up the path toward the dojo, clutching a package to its chest. "Is there a Himura Kenshin here?" a man's voice called. "I have something for him."

Kaoru stepped forward to meet the man, staying just under the roof's shelter. "He's in town now," she explained, "but you can leave it with us and we'll be sure he gets it."

The man hesitated, looking at each of them in turn. "I was told to deliver it directly to Himura-san. I need to take back a reply."

Sano got to his feet and snatched the package from the man. "And we'll be sure he gets it. He can send his reply later. Or you can come get it tomorrow." Who would be sending Kenshin a package? And what kind of package needed a reply, anyway?

"There's no need to be rude, Sano." Kaoru hit him in the arm and turned her attention to the messenger. "Who is it from? Kenshin will want to know, I'm sure."

The man shrugged, his eyes never leaving the bundle in Sano's arms. "An old friend of Okami's. I wasn't given a name."

"Who's this Okami, anyway?" Yahiko frowned. "Is that another one of those old-time government officials or something? 'Cause we've had enough of those."

"I don't know." The man bowed his apology. "Please see that Himura-san receives that as soon as he returns. It would damage my reputation as a messenger for a package to be lost, and my family cannot afford to lose more business."

"Yeah." Sano glanced at the cloth-covered bundle. "He'll get it."

The messenger bowed and turned to leave. "I'll return tomorrow for a response, then," he called over his shoulder.

"That was odd," Kaoru mused. "Who would send Kenshin a package? Everyone we know would bring it by personally." And who was Okami? Kenshin had never mentioned an Okami before.

"Could be one of the Oniwabanshū," Yahiko suggested. "Can't see them coming all this way to hand it to him."

"True." Kaoru reached out to take the bundle from Sano. "But the messenger said Okami, not Okina. Hmm. Okami," she reflected. It could be a name, but…

"Sounds like an innkeeper," Sano said. "Only the guy left off the –san."

Kaoru blinked in confusion. "But Kenshin hasn't stayed at an inn lately. He's been here at the dojo. And he couldn't have afforded an inn on his way to Kyoto."

"Could be someone he's protected in town, Jou-chan. There's bound to be a lot of them, with things as violent as they're getting."

"Why would an innkeeper be sending him clothing?" she asked archly.

"Clothes?"

"Yes, Yahiko. Or some kind of fabric. It feels like a letter, too." She looked down at the package. "I almost want to untie this and find out what it is."

"You're too nosey is what you are," Sano grumbled, taking back the package. "It's Kenshin's package, and Kenshin's business."

She glared up at him. "I wasn't going to open it, Sano. I just said I wanted to."

"Hey guys!" Yahiko scrambled to his feet. "Kenshin's back!"

And he was back, trudging through the rain without the umbrella he'd taken with him. The pink of his gi was a sodden purple, and his bangs were plastered to the sides of his face. He had a new tofu bucket, this one with a plank over the top to keep the rain out. The old bucket was nowhere to be seen.

"Kenshin!" Kaoru called. "What happened?"

"Yeah, man," Sano added. "We're hungry here. I came all this way just get a meal, and you're keeping me waiting."

Kenshin raised his free arm in a placating gesture, revealing a new set of holes in the sleeve of his gi. "This one is sorry for the delay. There was a robbery, there was, and this one had to replace his tofu."

"Kenshin," Kaoru began with a growing scowl. "What happened to the umbrella I loaned you?"

"Oro?" He rubbed the back of his head and flashed a smile. "It was shot. This one didn't bring enough money to buy you a replacement, Kaoru-dono, but he will go back later this evening, he will." He handed her the new tofu bucket.

"Kenshin!" she exploded. "That umbrella belonged to my grandmother!" She hit him over the head with her bokken.

"Gomen, gomen!" he wailed.

"How could you let it get-- Wait. _Shot_?" Kaoru froze mid-strike. "What do you mean 'shot?'"

"There were guns in the market this day, there most certainly were." The buoyant façade dropped from his face as he explained. "According to Saitou, this isn't the first gunfight, either. This one fears they may be more common in the future as the yakuza get more western supplies."

Sano reached out and held up Kenshin's arm, glaring at the holes in the sleeve. "And the umbrella's not the only thing that got shot. Was anyone hurt?"

Kenshin ducked his head to hide behind his bangs, but the move was ineffective with his wet hair. His grimace was as noticeable as the hitch in his voice. "A little girl was shot. Her brother and several townsfolk are at the police hospital."

"Oh, man," Yahiko breathed. "Are they going to be all right?"

Kenshin hesitated. "Maybe. This one hopes so. The gunmen are in jail now, but this one is certain there are more to replace them," he sighed. "There are always more these days, that there are."

Kaoru kept her voice soft as she asked the question she knew was pressing most on Kenshin's mind. "And the little girl?"

He shook his head sharply and brushed past them toward the kitchen, taking the tofu as he went.

Kaoru opened her mouth to say something, but closed it a moment later. What could she say, after all? That is wasn't his fault? That he couldn't save everyone? That he had at least prevented more people from dying? No. The Kenshin she knew felt that little girl's death deeply, and had already added it to his internal record of sins he had to atone for.

Sano punched one of the supporting posts, making the porch area shake a bit. "It's not fair," he muttered. "Someone's gotta teach him to stop accepting guilt for things that aren't his fault. If there was a way to save her, he'd have done it. But against _guns _…"

"I was thinking the same thing, Sano," Kaoru murmured.

"Uh, you guys," Yahiko began, "Kenshin said it was a robbery. But why would you bring guns to rob people?"

"Probably to threaten or take hostages, Yahiko. Maybe to make an example."

"Out of a little girl?" He shook his head in disgust. "People are evil. I'm going to go practice more."

"Wait, Yahiko," Kaoru called. "Would you start preparing a bath? I don't want Kenshin to get sick."

"Sure, busu. Just let him get the cooking done first, okay? I don't want _you _to finish it up for him."

"Yahiko!"


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, the setting, the time period, or even the plot that has gone before. Also, I have no money. It will be a pointless effort in malicious spite to sue me over this piece of _fan fiction_.

Chapter 3

Lunch was a quiet affair, and the incident at the market, though weighing heavily on them all, was not discussed. Yahiko excused himself to go heat the bath, while Sano and Kaoru chatted softly about the dreary weather. On his way back in, Yahiko interrupted their conversation to announce the heated bath and mention the package.

"Oh yeah. We must have forgotten when you came back." Kaoru retrieved the bundle and set it on the floor beside Kenshin. "A man came to the dojo while you were away, and asked us to give this to you. He said he needed a reply, though I'm not sure what he meant."

"Yeah, Kenshin," Sano added. "He's coming back tomorrow for that. Said this is from one of Okami's friends."

They watched him closely at that, Yahiko from the doorway, Sano and Kaoru from where they sat. Kenshin frowned, running a finger over the rope tying the bundle together.

"Okami?" he asked, looking up at them. "Did this man say where Okami was from?"

Sano shook his head. "Know anyone with that name?"

Kenshin thought for a moment, his eyes closed. "Perhaps he referred to Okami-san from the Kohagi Inn…" he trailed off.

"Where's that?" Sano asked.

Kenshin didn't answer, instead drawing the package onto his lap to unknot the cords. _A friend of Okami-san_, he thought apprehensively. _That can only be someone from the old Ishin Shishi headquarters. It's been eleven years. No one contacted me while I was in Kyoto, so how would they find me here? And to what purpose?_

Kaoru watched as he wrestled with the tightly knotted strings. Kenshin seemed to be deep in thought, not even answering Sano's question. Had she ever heard of an inn called Kohagi? Had Kenshin ever mentioned it? She couldn't recall any such name, or even anything about an innkeeper he knew. Kenshin didn't often bring up his past, but… But something about this package now filled her with the same foreboding she'd felt when Saitou had injured Sanosuke and left the medicine chest. She wasn't sure she could handle another situation like that, to say nothing of how Kenshin might respond. She glanced across at Sano, and found a similar thought expressed in his face.

The final, stubborn knot released, and Kenshin pulled apart the cloth covering. He let out a strangled gasp and hurled the bundle away as he stood. Eyes wide and panicked, he backed away from the crumpled contents, breathing harsh in his throat. He shook his head mutely, eyes locked on the fabric in horror.

Kaoru tore her eyes from Kenshin to figure out what had spooked him. She'd been right about the package's contents being clothing. In fact, it was a dark blue gi and grey hakama, no longer neatly folded. A pair of matching blue arm guards and tabi completed an outfit that would probably be more fitting for a man Kenshin's age than his current bright attire. She could see nothing threatening about the clothing, and looked up at Kenshin in confusion. "Kenshin, what's wrong? It's just clothes, that's all."

"And a letter," Yahiko said, pointing at the stiffly folded parchment that had fallen to the side when Kenshin had thrown the bundle.

Sano picked the letter up and flipped it over to reveal a chrysanthemum design pressed into the red wax of the seal. "Looks official." He reached up to hand it to Kenshin. "Why don't you read it to us?"

Kenshin clenched the letter in a fist without glancing at it, his face now carefully schooled to reveal nothing of his thoughts or emotions. "This one will take that bath now, he will," he uttered in a monotone. "Thank you for heating the water, Yahiko." He jerked his head in a nod and left the room, giving the discarded clothing a wide berth on his way out.

Yahiko came and sat down. "I don't understand. Kaoru's right. It's just an outfit."

Sano shook his head, moving to retrieve the clothes. "It's not 'just an outfit' if he feels like this about it. Not any more than my jacket is 'just a jacket.'" He opened up the gi, rubbing the fabric through his fingers. "It's thick fabric, probably real warm. Absorbent. High quality, for sure."

"But there's nothing unusual about the cut, no designs stitched into it, nothing special about it at all." Kaoru frowned. "It's just a gi, whatever kind of fabric. It's nothing at all like your jacket with the 'bad' on it."

"Maybe he doesn't like the color," Yahiko joked. "It's not bright enough for him."

"Oh, be serious Yahiko," Kaoru said with a slap. "There's something here we're missing that's upsetting him."

"I know that, busu! But we don't know what, and we can guess all day. Why don't we just ask him?"

Sano rolled his eyes. "Yeah, because he's always so eager to share when something's bothering him." He passed the gi to Kaoru, who started folding it neatly. "No way Kenshin'll spill on this. We had to follow him across Japan the last time because he wouldn't share."

"But he's gotten better, Sano. Since he's been back in Tokyo, he's been more open." Kaoru set aside the folded gi and started on the hakama. "If we give him some time, he'll tell us. I'm sure of it. If nothing else, he has to give that messenger a response tomorrow. If we don't let him out of our sight, we'll hear what his response is. That'll tell us something."

* * *

Kenshin rested his head on the edge of the tub and closed his eyes. The day was only half over, and already this bad. He didn't want to think about what would happen next. Perhaps the dojo would burn down, though the rain made that unlikely.

"Okami-san," he murmured. No true friend of hers would have sent him that uniform. She was the only mother he remembered clearly, one of the few people in his life as hitokiri who hadn't been afraid of him. She had never approved of Katsura-san's use of him, and certainly wouldn't want him to return to that job. Was that even the message being sent here? Maybe it was more reminder than invitation. But why remind him now? He'd fought Shishio as requested. There was no need to remind him of anything.

Whatever the reason for the package, he had no desire to ever lay eyes on that outfit again. He opened his eyes and looked to the corner, where his sakabatou rested against the wall. No desire to see that uniform, and no desire to kill. Not ever again.

Kenshin reached over the rim of the tub to pick up the letter he'd crumpled earlier. Whoever it was wanted a reply. He'd have said "no" and left it unread, but he wasn't entirely sure what he was replying to. He tensed again at the thought of reading the letter, but allowed the warm water to sooth away the tension. He needed to read it. He couldn't put it off too much longer.

Smoothing out the wrinkles he'd caused, he examined what remained of the seal. In his mind's eye, a deep red banner was lifted over a field of corpses, a golden chrysanthemum emblazoned across the billowing fabric. He knew this seal. His sword had been used to raise it up, to create the new era.

He unfolded the parchment with trembling fingers, not really wanting to know what it contained.

Himura,

I once offered you a post in the new government, as highly placed as so important a man as yourself deserves. At the time, you turned me down, claiming that you would protect the people of Japan with your sword, even though you were but one man. I learned much about myself that day, and much about what makes you so honorable a man. Since that day, we've been able to count on your assistance occasionally, with such singular threats as the madmen of the Jinpu squad, Jin-eh, and Raijuta, but Himura, the threat currently facing Japan is more complex than any of these singular incidents. I cannot sit by any longer and accept blindly the logic that governs your life.

You know what havoc Shishio Makoto wreaked in the background, what strife he caused with his flawed ideals and his goal of restoring the chaos of the Revolution. When asked for aid, you gave it, defeating him and his Juppongatana. One man with a sword accomplished much on Mt. Hiei, and his actions there are appreciated. But I'm sure you can see how those actions are not enough.

Shishio was a threat, but he was not alone. There are parasites hidden throughout our government who seek to bring the Meiji era to an early close, and to rob the people of Japan of the peaceful days they deserve after all the chaos of the wars. We can only keep so much of the situation hidden from the people, and no more. Our people will worry, will be torn by confusion and fear if we do not present a unified and strong front. Indeed, they are growing disillusioned already.

Himura, you may feel your actions as hitokiri were grievous sins that can never be erased, and you may feel you have done your part and deserve a peace of your own. But do not forget that without your sword we could never have built up the government that has sustained the people for ten years. This era of the Meiji is a new babe, one you helped to create. Do not allow corrupt men to destroy this government and plunge the people of Japan into another period of instability.

We need you, Himura. With your help we brought the twisted Tokugawa regime to its knees and restored freedom to the people of Japan. With your help, we cleared away the rubble and began constructing a new Japan for the people of our new era. In your own way, you have protected the people of Japan, and I thank you. But it is not enough. The people are suffering more now than one man, working on his own, can prevent.

Do not abandon this era or these people now, in this new time of need. Please, lend us your sword again, and rise up to preserve this new era from the unscrupulous men who seek to destroy it, and who care little for the common people you seek to protect.

I eagerly await your response, Himura, and hope that it will be such that I may stop dreaming of a ruined Japan, governed by yakuza thugs, greed-blinded businessmen, and violent factionists.

Yamagata Aritomo  
Prime Minister of Japan


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, the setting, the time period, or even the plot that has gone before. Also, I have no money. It will be a pointless effort in malicious spite to sue me over this piece of _fan fiction_.

Chapter 4

Kenshin let the letter drop to the floor beyond the tub and again closed his eyes. He'd seen how bad things were getting with his own eyes, but apparently he'd not seen the half of it. Still… There had to be another way to clean up Japan. A way that did not involve bloodshed. That didn't prolong the killing.

His response? He had to have one tomorrow when the messenger returned. He didn't have one now. It was too much to think about after the tragedy in the market and the shock of seeing the blue and grey again. Kenshin felt a bitter smile tug at his lips. He'd gone to Kyoto without knowing whether he'd kill again. He'd marched up Mt. Hiei to confront Shishio without knowing. Maybe he would join Yamagata's cause without knowing.

The water was growing cold, and he got out of the tub with a sigh. There was only so long a person could soak, after all. Dressing again, he tucked the letter in his sleeve and picked up the sakabatou before making his way through the dojo to his room. The uniform was folded neatly in front of the shoji, and he carefully stepped over it, leaving it there as he closed the screen after himself. Letter or no letter, the uniform sent shivers up his spine.

He settled himself against a wall, sword propped up against his shoulder, and considered the contents of the letter again. Yamagata was hinting at trouble much greater than any single threat Japan had faced yet in the Meiji. Even Shishio's plans, while devastating if successful, were not quite of this caliber. If Yamagata referred to the types of things Saitou had mentioned, this new threat was worse in that it was an organic thing, with too many prongs to be taken out swiftly and decisively. Even if Kenshin were to tackle one branch of such a threat, the others were still operative. By the time he moved on to the next branch, the first would have sprung up anew.

It was similar to the overwhelming opposition the Ishin Shishi had faced during the Bakumatsu. With so many targets, an all out assault would accomplish nothing. Care had to be taken to dismember the structure from the ground up, just as they'd crippled the Shogunate. But…

"Kenshin?"

He looked up at the sound of Kaoru-dono's voice at the shoji, but didn't trust himself to speak yet.

"I've made dinner, if you're hungry," she called.

She sounded worried, and he would have loved to reassure her. But there was no honest assurance he could offer. After a minute, he heard her walk away. He hung his head, letting his bangs fall into his face.

Could he protect her if the civil unrest grew even worse? Already, he tried to keep her from going into Tokyo proper, tried to keep her safe at the dojo. But how safe was the dojo, really? He'd lost track of the enemies who'd attacked this place or who'd demonstrated knowledge of its location. In the peaceful Meiji era he'd dreamed about, there would be no need to protect her, or anyone else.

What was it he'd told Sano after their fight? Something about the revolution being incomplete. About how he still had to finish it, protecting people with his sakabatou. Kenshin wondered whether the revolution would ever be complete. Even a decade after the official fighting ended, he still fought regularly for the common people. The sword ban hadn't kept swords off the street, it had only hidden them. And now there were worse things than swords on streets, things that were vastly easier to conceal, and deadly from a great distance.

He closed his eyes, exhausted more from the mental and emotion rigors of the day than from the physical ones. What if this new threat actually _undid _the revolution? What if all the work, all the bloodshed, all the slaughter, had been for nothing because a handful of well-connected yakuza swiped the reins of the government? Could he live with himself? Could he live with himself if he did nothing? Or if he did… something? Kenshin shook the questions from his mind and tried to sleep.

...

_He walked through the deserted streets of Tokyo, looking at the familiar buildings now fallen into shambles. People were too busy burying loved ones to repaint faded signs or patch up damaged roofs. It seemed only the gambling joints and taverns were in good repair._

_Kenshin turned at the sound of footsteps behind him._ No one should be out on the streets,_ he thought._ It isn't safe.

_"Battousai," Saitou greeted him around the cigarette hanging from his lips. "Enjoying a refreshing walk in the market district, are we?"_

_"Not refreshing, Saitou," Kenshin muttered. "There's nothing refreshing about Tokyo these days." He continued along his original path, now with Saitou at his side._

_He paused at the tofu merchant's stall, startled by the blood dripping from its thatched roof. An umbrella, old but well cared for, lay on its edge in the reddish mud, riddled with rough-punched holes. He knew that umbrella from somewhere, but couldn't place it in his mind._

_"You're stalling," Saitou complained. "Come on, already. What you came for is up ahead."_

_Kenshin looked back at the taller man. "What I came for?"_

_"The girl." Saitou turned on his heel and started walking toward one of the more successful toyshops._

_Curious, Kenshin followed him, noticing more bleeding rooftops as they walked. He almost stepped on a block of spilled tofu, lying near a shattered bucket. And there was the girl, up ahead as Saitou had promised._

_She lay twisted and bleeding across a table of porcelain dolls, the entire right side of her face a jumble of bone fragments and shredded flesh. Nearby, a small boy hunched over his stomach and several townsfolk clutched at a variety of bleeding wounds. Surely someone could have done something to stop this. Someone should have been here to end this. Someone might have prevented this. Surely…_

_Saitou interrupted his reverie. "When you slay evil immediately, it doesn't have the chance to do things like this. When you slap evil on the wrist, it goes out and buys guns. There's idealism, and then there's selfishness, Battousai." He spat his cigarette out onto the bloody ground. "If someone had eliminated these thieving bastards, the little girl would live. If someone had eliminated the dealer who sold the weapons, the thieves themselves might not have bothered to attack."_

_He turned from the wreckage of the little girl, and stood in front of Kenshin, drawing violet eyes up to meet yellow._

_"_This _is why I live by Aku Soku Zan."_


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, the setting, the time period, or even the plot that has gone before. Also, I have no money. It will be a pointless effort in malicious spite to sue me over this piece of _fan fiction_.

Chapter 5

Kaoru sat up and rubbed her eyes before peeling back the blanket of her futon. If yesterday was any indication, today would be a rough one. She dressed quickly and crept as stealthily as she could to Kenshin's room. He hadn't answered her last night when she'd come to get him for dinner, and she'd seen the new gi and hakama untouched where she'd left them while he bathed. Last night was one thing, but this morning, she was determined to get at least a few words out of him. This sort of distancing was exactly what had led up to him leaving the last time, and she was having none of it this time around.

She stopped at the still-piled clothing by his door, and placed her ear against the shoji. She'd never tell Kenshin this, but when he was upset or worried over something, he muttered in his sleep. After a few moments of silence, she pulled back and eased the shoji open a crack. He might have been awake and brooding, or he might have finally lapsed into a more peaceful sleep, but she'd never know which unless she peeked in on him.

"Hey busu, what are you doing?"

Her pupil's sleepy voice sent her crashing back from the shoji with a shriek. "Yahiko! Don't sneak up on me!"

"If you're looking for Kenshin, he's out in the yard doing laundry." He handed her a small plate with two rice balls on it. "And he made breakfast while we were all sleeping."

She took the plate from Yahiko and opened the shoji fully to get a better look inside.

"I already checked. He took that letter with him."

"How long have you been awake, anyway, Yahiko?" she asked a bit resentfully. "Usually I can't drag you out of bed."

Yahiko smirked at her. "Kenshin woke me up to get my laundry and tell me that breakfast was ready. He said you'd had a late night worrying about him and needed to sleep in."

"Is that so?" Kaoru bit into a rice ball and shuffled toward the porch to watch for the messenger. "Well if you've been up so long, you can add another 500 strokes to your practice today. I'm sure you've already warmed up."

"Hey! You can't do that, busu!"

"I can do whatever I want. I _am_ your assistant master, Yahiko-_chan_."

"Don't call me –chan!"

"Don't call me busu!" she returned.

A groan sounded from the next room and the shoji opened to reveal a rumpled Sano rubbing his eyes. "Is it always so loud over here in the mornings? Man, I'm sorry I stayed over. Can't a guy get some sleep?"

Kaoru and Yahiko shared a laugh at that. "Breakfast is in the kitchen, sleepy-head, and Kenshin's in the yard," Kaoru greeted. "Better hurry up if you don't want to miss the messenger."

"What messenger?" He was suddenly very awake. "Oh, right. He better not have come this early or I'll track him down for Kenshin's answer."

Sano was on his feet and halfway to the kitchen before he even finished speaking. "Well come on, what are you guys waiting for?"

They found Kenshin kneeling beside the laundry bucket, scrubbing at one of Yahiko's training gis. Already several garments were strung along the drying poles and the pile of dirty laundry was quite small. He turned to deliver a smiling good morning to them before returning to the sudsy gi.

"Oh man, how's he _do_ that?" Sano muttered. "He couldn't have gotten more sleep than I did. It's just a crime to be that cheerful in the mornings."

Kaoru sat down on the steps, basking in the early sunlight that was such a change from the recent weather. "I'd think by now you'd know to look beyond the cheer, Sano." She finished her second rice ball and pointed to the clean laundry. "He works extra hard when he's troubled, and breakfast _and_ laundry… this is an early start, even for him."

Across the yard, Kenshin snapped the gi open and examined it. Apparently unsatisfied, he plunged it back into the tub and continued scrubbing.

Kaoru stood up and brushed the fabric of her kimono smooth. "Kenshin," she called as she walked toward him. "Are you feeling better this morning?"

"Oro?" He looked up at her and blinked. "Oh, yes, much better. The sunshine will do that, it will." Kenshin smiled. "And it will dry this laundry, too." He turned back to the tub.

"Kenshin…"

"Yes, Kaoru-dono? You wish to ask something of this one?"

She bit her lip. "You aren't planning on leaving, are you? Because of… because of yesterday? The package?"

He turned concerned eyes on her. "This one hadn't planned on it, no. But if Kaoru-dono wants this one to leave—"

"No!" she yelped. "No, I want you to stay," she continued more calmly. "I'm just worried. Because last time something upset you this much, you… you walked away." Despite her efforts to meet his eyes, she found herself looking at the ground suddenly. "I couldn't bear it if you left again, Kenshin."

He nodded in response and wrung out the gi before placing it in a new bucket to be rinsed later. "When you welcomed this one home, Kaoru-dono, he took it seriously, he did. It will take more than a uniform of the Choshu-Shishi to chase this one off, that it most certainly will. This one has a home now, Kaoru-dono."

Kaoru smiled, feeling a blush streak across her cheeks at his words. It was rare to get Kenshin talking so openly about his feelings, and she treasured the rare occasions when he did so. She stayed by his side as he started on a new gi, swishing it through the water to wet it thoroughly.

"Kenshin," she started. "Why don't we eat lunch at the Akabeko today? My treat."

He frowned at the gi and began scrubbing. "It is dangerous in town these days, Kaoru-dono."

"But Sano would be with us, Kenshin. With the four of us, we'll be a match for anything. And I do miss Tae and Tsubame-chan. We haven't seen them in weeks."

He was silent for a moment, his face hidden by his fringe of bangs. "If you want to go so badly, Kaoru-dono, then this one will not object. Perhaps while we are in town, we can buy some rice and a new umbrella."

"It's done, then," she announced. "I'll go tell the others."

Yahiko was in the dojo practicing when she came back, but Sano was reclining against a post. He cracked an eye open when she sat. "Well that must have gone well, Jou-chan. I do believe you're blushing."

"We're going to the Akabeko for lunch today," she beamed at him. "And Kenshin said he'd stay, even after getting a Choshu-Shishi uniform."

Sano sat up stiffly at the last part. "A what? Choshu-Shishi? No wonder the guy's upset," he muttered under his breath.

"What's wrong, Sano? He said he'd stay."

"What's wrong?" he repeated. "What do you think it would mean if I got a Sekihoutai uniform from some strange innkeeper, and a letter I didn't want to talk about?" He paused briefly to let it sink in. "Kenshin's Choshu, Kaoru. He was their hitokiri. I bet if we asked about this Kohagi Inn he mentioned, we'd find out it was headquarters or something during the Bakumatsu." He ran a hand through his hair. "Kami-sama, why don't these people just leave the man alone?"

"Good morning. How may this one help you?" Kenshin's voice drifted across the yard, and both Kaoru and Sano rose to go stand near him.

The messenger from yesterday bowed politely before speaking. "I am looking for a Himura Kenshin, who should have received a package yesterday."

Kenshin bowed in return. "You have found him," he said softly. "This one assumes you are here for a reply."

"Hai."

"This one has no reply," Kenshin murmured, his eyes fixed on the ground beyond the messenger.

"No reply?" The messenger's face screwed up into a worried grimace. "But, Himura-san, I need to deliver your response to my employer. It was a part of my job."

Kenshin did not look up, and spoke in the same soft voice. "You may tell your employer that there is no reply. This one…" he paused, "has nothing he can say in response. No, he most certainly does not."

"I…" the messenger trailed off. Then he jerked a bow. "Hai. I will deliver your _lack_ of a response, Himura-san," he muttered before leaving.

Sano tapped Kenshin on the shoulder. "What kind of a reply is that? Are you going to do it or not?"

Kenshin turned around with a confused frown. "Why Sano, what do you mean? Is this one going to do _what_?"

"Jou-chan here says that thing you got is a Choshu-Shishi uniform." He crossed his arms over his chest and stared.

"Aa," he hesitated. "And that concerns this one, it does. But no one has asked this one to do anything specific." He shrugged and moved back to the laundry pile. "And without such a request, there is no reply." Feigning ignorance regarding the frustrated glare Sano leveled in his direction, Kenshin picked up the current gi and continued washing.

"I suppose he's right, Sano," Kaoru conceded in a hushed tone. "I just wish we could see that letter."

Yahiko's voice carried from across the dojo. "Oi busu! You gonna train me or what?"

She narrowed her eyes. "Guess Yahiko-_chan_ wants a lesson in humility." Kaoru pushed her sleeves up and stomped into the dojo.

Sano stared through the gate at the path the messenger had taken, debating how worthwhile it would be to drag more information of the man. "Eh," he growled. "I don't even know where he went." He stretched out on the porch with his arms behind his head as a pillow. Kenshin might be cheerful on a few hours of sleep, but Sano had the feeling he'd better catch up while the opportunity presented itself.

* * *

"And if they don't get enough volunteers, I heard the government's going to draft people!" Tae exclaimed. "Every able-bodied man will have to sign up, and the government will just pick them at random."

Kaoru looked across the table at Kenshin, who was staring vacantly into his rice bowl. Would they draft Kenshin? Or Sano? Could she stop them from taking her friends from her? "But what about the families, Tae?" she asked. "Those men have to work to support their families. They can't run off and fight in the countryside."

Sano snorted. "Soldiers get paid, Jou-chan. Anyway, anyone who doesn't want to join up will just cut and run. Join the rebellion or something. That's what I'd do."

"And contributing to the problem is exactly the right solution, Sano," she returned. "Haven't you learned anything being around Kenshin all year?"

They all took a moment to look at the man in question, who was apparently oblivious to the attention.

"Oi, Kenshin," Sano snapped.

"Kenshin?"

"Hellooo," Yahiko sang as he waved his hand in front of Kenshin's face. "Is there anyone in there?"

"Hm?" He looked up at their faces in confusion. "What is it?"

"You're not thinking of enlisting, are you, buddy?" Sano threatened, holding his fist up.

"Oro? This one in the army?" He held up his hands in front of him, fending Sanosuke off. "Iie, not this one. The army is no place for a rurouni, Sano. He might wander off in the middle of battle."

Tae and the others laughed at this, allowing Kenshin to return to his thoughts while they finished their conversation. He was glad of this, as he didn't wish to share his current set of thoughts. If Tae's information was right, it was only a matter of time before war broke out. Again. And right at the beginning of an era of peace. Whether they got volunteers or forced people to fight, the battles would begin anew unless something happened soon.

Yamagata seemed to think a string of carefully planned assassinations would solve the problem, or perhaps that he could cut down whole armies on the warfront. Kenshin mentally scoffed. He was capable of it, but he didn't see any solution in marching into battle. All he saw there was the promise of death for countless innocents, wrapped up in the spirit of the times and blinded by rebel propaganda.

But to return to the hitokiri, after eleven years… And what proof did he have that even that would be truly helpful? He'd found during the Bakumatsu that fully half or more of his victims were bodyguards and luckless witnesses to his murders. There was no justice to that. And more than a little injustice.

"Kenshin, what's with you today?"

"Oro?" He looked up to see Kaoru standing over him with a concerned frown.

"Come on, we need to go buy that rice. Try to stay with us, okay?"

He smiled at her, and got to his feet. "Aa. To the rice merchant, then."

They were nearly to the market proper when Kenshin stopped, turning to study one of the many noodle stands in the city. He caught Sano's eyes, and nodded to the stand. "Can you go with Yahiko and Kaoru-dono to the market and then home, Sano? This one needs to talk with Saitou, he does."

Sano peered through the crowd, catching sight of the squinty-eyed cop he hated. "You can't talk to him some other time, Kenshin?"

"It's about the robbery yesterday, Sano," he lied. "This one will be home soon, he most certainly will. Please protect Yahiko and Kaoru-dono, Sano."

"Yeah, okay," the fighter reluctantly agreed, turning to catch up with them. "See ya back at the dojo, Kenshin!" he called.

Kenshin watched them continue toward the market, and then wove through the crowd to the noodle stand. He wordlessly slid into the seat across from Saitou, waiting to be acknowledged. The man flicked his eyes up at him briefly, but otherwise ignored him. After a few minutes, Kenshin cleared his throat.

"Tae at the Akabeko passed along a rumor that the government is going to start a draft." Kenshin let the statement hang in the air.

"Hn."

"Saitou, is the situation really that bad?"

The man set his soba bowl down and actually looked at him for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Finally, he nodded. "In the Meiji, I operate as a wolf still, keeping politicians in line and protecting the people as I once did in Kyoto. But even my Aku Soku Zan can only pick off so many fleas."

He slurped another mouthful of noodles before continuing. "There's too much damage, too much corruption for a lone wolf to do much good. Much as I hate to say it to you, Battousai, even I have my limits."

Kenshin frowned. He hadn't been expecting such an honest answer from Saitou. "This draft, when will it happen? What will the government say?"

Saitou shrugged. "Does it matter what they say? Before the month is out Tokyo will have a new army of poorly trained peasants to go chase the rebels in the countryside. The better fighters will stay put as police."

"As police?"

"Tch, can't you see they're needed? All our regulars are off trying to put down these rebellions, and some of our more specialized men are out trying to do a hitokiri's job against the yakuza. The streets are turning to mob rule. Are you blind?"

Kenshin shook his head. "Not blind, Saitou. I just want to be _certain_ of the extent of this trouble."

Saitou returned his empty bowl to the table and scowled at him. "It's deep. Too deep for this Miburo to handle without help. If the Hitokiri Battousai were to make an appearance, much more could be done to remedy the situation. But I've been told he's too afraid of spilling blood to help the weak."

He sneezed suddenly, three times in quick procession. Muttering about the weather and colds, he got to his feet and tossed a few coins on the table. Saitou paused with his back to Kenshin. "Oh, yeah. I figured you'd want to know," he said over his shoulder. "That boy from yesterday died last night. Guess that makes _two_ children you didn't save."

The news twisted in his gut, and Kenshin almost missed the note of sadness in Saitou's voice.

"You know, Battousai, there's idealism, and then there's _selfishness_," he muttered.

Kenshin stared mutely as Saito made his way into the throng of people on the street and vanished from view. Images last night's dream flickered through his mind. The girl. The boy. The blood. He shook his head and brought his hands up to his temples. Nearly an hour passed before he left the noodle stand for the dojo.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, the setting, the time period, or even the plot that has gone before. Also, I have no money. It will be a pointless effort in malicious spite to sue me over this piece of _fan fiction_.

Chapter 6

"Hey Kaoru," Yahiko called. "He's coming back!"

She walked out to the yard, frowning as she caught a glimpse of the pink and white. Kenshin was walking with his head down, reading a piece of paper in his hands. Squinting, she could make out a blotch of red on the parchment, and recognized the letter from the day before.

"Kenshin!" she greeted.

At her voice, he looked up and swiftly tucked the letter back in his sleeve.

Kaoru frowned again at that, but started towards the man anyway. "Sano told us you had to meet with Saitou. I hope nothing is wrong."

Kenshin smiled at her. "This one knows exactly when you must have been talking about Saitou, that he does. Unless," he paused, "you were saying something nice?"

"Not likely." Kaoru folded her arms across her chest. "There's nothing nice to say about that man. He's a creep, lying his way into dojos to pick fights with people who don't want to fight, walking off at the end of a battle with not so much as a farewell, letting Sano think he was dead… There's nothing nice about that man at all."

He put his hands up to calm her. "Now, now. You'll make him sneeze again, you will. He's already sure he's catching a cold."

"A man like that deserves a cold."

"He adopted a little orphan boy from Shingetsu Village, he did. And he's beyond corruption, which is more than most people these days."

Kaoru glared. "And just _why_ are you standing up for him Kenshin?"

Kenshin smiled again, avoiding her question. "Oh, and he's married."

"What!? Who would marry a guy like that?"

"Oi, Kenshin! What'd the cop have to say?" Sano called from his perch on the steps.

Kenshin tilted his head as he approached, sending his bangs down over his eyes in his signature move. "The little boy died last night, Sano."

"That's too bad. But it didn't take two hours to say that."

"Sanosuke! What's wrong with you?" Kaoru yelled. "A little boy just died, and you're upset that Kenshin took his time getting home?"

"Now, now, Kaoru-dono," Kenshin murmured sadly. "That's all right, it is. These days, it is very worrisome when people are late. Gomen for worrying you, Sano." He slid the sakabatou from his obi and sat down on the porch, leaning against the open shoji. "This one is glad you are all here and safe. He was worried, too, that he was."

Sano shifted to face Kenshin. "Saitou?" he prompted.

"You are very persistent today, Sano," Kenshin said with a small smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Saitou and this one talked about… a lot of things. Tae was right about the draft. By the end of the month, he says, if enlistments don't increase dramatically enough." He paused. "And the papers are right about the police not having the time to do their jobs. Many of them have been transferred to the military to fight the rebels, that they have."

Kenshin got to his feet replacing the sakabatou. "This one will be at the shrine for a while," he announced. "Come and get this one if you get hungry, and he isn't already back."

They watched him leave, each certain Kenshin had left a great deal unsaid.

"Well, Jou-chan," Sano began. "What do you think?"

Yahiko plopped himself down between them with a grunt. "Well, _I_ think we need to get that letter from him."

"There's definitely something wrong," Kaoru said. "And he's talking about it more than he would have before, but he's still not _talking_ about it. This is like in Kyoto, while he was recovering. Or like when he went to fight Jin-eh."

Sano slammed his fist into his palm. "And that bastard Saitou is involved in it, I know it!" He stood up, scowling fiercely. "You two stay here. I'm going to go find Saitou and find out what's going on."

He turned at the gate, and called back to them. "Oh, yeah. Watch out for black envelopes! Katsu says those things are bad news!"

* * *

They were eating dinner when Sanosuke returned, his frustration apparent across his face. Kenshin rose to retrieve a tray and food for him, disappearing into the kitchen.

"So?" Kaoru asked softly.

Sano shook his head. "The bastard lost me. I saw him two or three times, but he disappeared before I could get to him."

Yahiko snickered around a mouthful of rice. "Are you sure he lost you, Sano? Maybe you just got lost on your own."

"Why you!" Sano smacked him upside the head. "I'll have you know I can find my way around Tokyo just fine. It's _Kyoto_ that's the problem."

"What's wrong in Kyoto, Sano?" Kenshin asked, setting the loaded tray down in front of his friend.

"Nothing. Just the streets are laid out all funny." He picked up his chopsticks and started on the meal.

"Hm," Kenshin nodded. "That they are. But they were very convenient for losing followers and avoiding spies, that they were." He sat back down and continued eating while the other three stared at him. The silence eventually brought his eyes up to look at each of them. "Oro? Did this one say something he shouldn't have?"

Sano pointed his chopsticks at the redhead. "No, you just don't talk about that stuff very often." _Let's see if I can _keep_ him talking_, Sano thought. _Maybe he'll slip up and tell us something_ _useful_. "So how'd you get to know the streets so well?"

Kenshin smiled. "Would Sano like some tips?"

"Well if I ever get back there," he replied, "it'll be better to know where I'm going, is all."

"Aa," he nodded. "If memory serves, side streets that are narrow and cluttered are also riddled with hidden alleyways and paths. Very good for a hasty retreat at night, they are. Cleaner streets are on the map, though, and good for hiding during the day, when people expect you in the back alleys. Of course, there _are_ maps of the hidden streets, if one knows where to look."

Kenshin paused, tilting his head at Sano and smiling. "For you, Sano, it would be good to see the maps _first_, that it would."

Kaoru paddled more rice into her bowl, both chilled and intrigued by Kenshin's sudden talkativeness. "Is that how you learned the streets, Kenshin? With a map?"

He shook his head. "Iie. This one learned quickly after being cornered too many times by the Shinsengumi. Experience is a good teacher." He frowned, taking a bite of rice. "And patience. Scouting an assignment is long work, and a shadow cannot be seen asking for directions." He was silent for a moment. "Gomen. This one should not be bringing up such dark subjects at dinner."

There was a shout at the gate, and Kenshin and the others got up to investigate. A panting youth stood in the yard, trying to catch his breath.

"There's," he finally managed. "There's been another shooting in town. Takani-sensei needs help with the patients. She sent me to get Sanosuke. Is he here?"

"Yeah, I'm here," Sano said. "I said I owed her one for this hand of mine."

Kenshin stepped forward. "Sano, perhaps we should all go. If Megumi-dono is overwhelmed, she would appreciate more helpers than just one."

"Nah," he replied. "You stay here with Jou-chan. She's horrible with patients. Come on, Yahiko," he waved.

"Right!"

Kenshin watched them run off with the youth, wondering how many of the victims would die in the next few days. Another shooting. Already. "I wonder whether Saitou got there in time," he murmured.

"What's that, Kenshin?"

He registered her odd expression, and repeated himself more carefully. "Oh, this one was wondering whether Saitou had stopped the shooters, that he was." _I'm worrying her again_, he thought. _I need to stop doing that_. "This one will clear away the dishes, he will."

She followed him into the dojo, stacking bowls while he gathered up trays. "Kenshin," she began.

"Yes, Kaoru-dono?"

"Do you think they'll really force people to join the army?" _Will they force you to kill_? She couldn't ask him that, though. He'd clam up for days if she did. She set the dishes down on the counter and watched him tie back his sleeves.

Kenshin nodded. "It has happened before, Kaoru-dono. And if things are this bad in the capitol, they must be worse elsewhere, that they must." He picked up a nearby bucket of water, set it in the sink and swished a cloth through it. "This one does not want to see you worry, Kaoru-dono."

"How can I not worry when you, or Sano, or even Yahiko could be marched off to war next week?"

"They will not take Yahiko," Kenshin muttered under his breath. "Even during the Revolution, they wouldn't have taken one _that_ young. Unless he was very skilled with a sword." Kenshin internally winced at the bitterness in his voice, and made a conscious effort to change his tone. "If Sano or this one were to be called in, we would remain in Tokyo as police, that we would. Saitou has explained that to this one. The better fighters will protect the city, and the others," _are cannon fodder_, he thought cynically. "The others will try to stop the rebels," he finished as lightly as he could.

Kenshin let his attention drop to the dishes he was washing, blocking out as many thoughts as he could. It was too dangerous to entertain them with Kaoru-dono nearby. She was already upset enough, and he didn't want to make her feel worse. He methodically rinsed the bowl in the second bucket and set it on the opposite counter, surprised when Kaoru reached out to start drying it. She would occasionally watch him work, but only very rarely did she participate. _She must be more upset than I realized_, he thought guiltily.

_Is Saitou right_? he wondered. _Am I being selfish? People are dying, and I'm worried about an oath I made eleven years ago. I rejected Shishou to protect the people, and ended up a killer, just like he'd said. If I reject my oath, will I become something even worse_?

Kenshin heard Kaoru sigh, and looked over at her. She was busily putting dry dishes away, and didn't see his stare. _Would_ _she forgive me for it? Would _any_ of them forgive me?_ He wasn't comfortable asking that, of her or of himself. He didn't know for certain how his friends would react, but they'd adamantly rejected the notion when Okubo-san had visited the dojo. Maybe the darker times would change their minds. But he still wasn't sure if his own mind had changed, and it wouldn't do to ask them until he knew what he thought.

He turned back to the dishwater, now filled with the last of the bowls. _I didn't care, then. I had nothing to live for, and no reason to fear death or respect life_. He fished a chopstick out of the water and handed it to Kaoru. _I know differently now. If I can hold on to my friends, maybe it will not turn out the same. Maybe I can still be myself_.

After setting the last bowl on the counter, Kenshin poured the rinsing water into the first bucket, and lifted it by the handles. "This one will be in the yard, Kaoru-dono."

"Okay, Kenshin. I'll be there once I finish putting away these chopsticks."

He nodded, and went to empty the bucket in the yard. A man was there, standing in the gateway waiting. Kenshin set the bucket down and walked to meet the man, hand going to the hilt of his sakabatou. This man's ki was not hostile in any overt sense, but there was an uneasiness about it that put Kenshin on edge. He wondered why he hadn't noticed it from inside.

"What do you want with this dojo?" he asked, softly, hoping that Kaoru would take her time with the dishes.

The man gave a short bow and studied Kenshin's face, his eyes pausing on the left cheek. "Himura?"

"I am. What do want?" he repeated stiffly.

The man smiled. "I have a delivery from Yamagata-sama. He was pleased with your response, and hopes—" he man broke off his sentence, looking over Kenshin's shoulder.

"Kenshin? Who is this?" Kaoru asked as she walked up.

He tried to tell her to go back to the dojo, but his jaw refused to unclench. She stopped at his shoulder, and waited. Kenshin nodded sharply to the man, but did not release his stranglehold on the sakabatou.

"Well, then," the messenger shrugged. "He hopes that you will read this letter carefully and with your usual discretion." He bowed again, before reaching into his sleeve and producing a palm-sized black envelope.

Kaoru gasped, bringing her hand to her mouth as she saw the letter. _That's it_, she thought. _The black envelope Sano warned us about. Oh, Kenshin_…

"My usual discretion?" Kenshin choked out, making no move to take the envelope but unable to tear his eyes away.

The messenger smiled grimly, and continued. "He also would like to add that the children of Japan thank you for your sacrifice."

_Sacrifice_? Kaoru jerked her eyes from the envelope to Kenshin's face, saw an eye twitch as he swallowed. She'd never seen anything move as slowly as his arm did then, releasing that grip on his sword and extending, stretching toward the cursed envelope. As slow as the motion was, she almost didn't react in time, jerking her own arm forward at the last moment to knock the envelope to the ground.

"Leave him alone!" she screamed. "I don't know who you are or what you want, but you just leave Kenshin alone! You go tell the monster who sent you that our Kenshin is _our_ Kenshin, and he's not doing whatever it is you want him to do." Pushing up the sleeves of her kimono, Kaoru advanced toward the messenger, who retreated toward the gate. "No more uniforms!" she yelled. "No more letters! No more of you slimy messengers with bad news. You hear? Get _out_!"

Kaoru watched the messenger leave and tried to slow her breathing. It hurt her to see Kenshin upset, and she vowed she would protect him just as effectively as he protected her. She wouldn't let them bully him. She wouldn't let them force him into _anything_. Satisfied that the man wasn't coming back, she turned around to say as much to Kenshin.

But he was gone, and so was the black envelope.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, the setting, the time period, or even the plot that has gone before. Also, I have no money. It will be a pointless effort in malicious spite to sue me over this piece of _fan fiction_.

Chapter 7

Kaoru froze, staring at the empty patch of ground where there should have been a little black envelope. The harsh rush of her heartbeats echoed in her ears and the ground spun alarmingly before she remembered to breathe and sucked in a shaking lungful of air. The envelope was gone. Kenshin was gone. She tried to make sense of these facts, had to fight with the part of her who didn't want to believe either thing.

Kenshin had taken the envelope.

The stray thought galvanized her, and she sprang toward the dojo at a run. "Kenshin!" she called, truly afraid for the first time since Kyoto that he was leaving her. She would not stand by this time when he walked away. She would not allow him to leave like this. "Kenshin! Don't you dare leave me!"

Kaoru knew the layout of her dojo by heart, and was only slightly impeded by the tears blurring her vision. _It isn't happening_, she begged. _He isn't gone. He isn't!_ She stopped short at the open shoji of his room, nearly tripping over the faded and worn travel bag that contained the few things Kenshin owned. Sobbing, she picked it up and hugged it tightly.

_He hasn't really left if he didn't take his bag. Not really_. Kaoru comforted herself with this thought, and let herself slide down the wall to sit. "Kenshin," she whispered, her voice breaking over the name. "Don't leave me alone, _please_."

Her gaze settled on the doorway to her left, where something was different. It took her a moment to realize that the carefully folded and pointedly ignored Choshu-Shishi uniform was missing.

* * *

It was nearing sunset when Sano and Yahiko arrived back from the clinic, dragging tired feet and barely holding their heads up. She met them on the porch, still clutching the travel bag as though the act of holding it was all that could make Kenshin return to her.

Yahiko plopped down on the porch and leaned against a post, his eyes closed. "I don't envy Megumi," he said.

"Nope," Sano agreed, stretching out on his back nearby. "We didn't even do much, and I'm tired."

When Kaoru remained silent, he raised his head up to look at her. "Jou-chan? Are you—" he broke off as he saw her red eyes, and sat up in one motion. "Where's Kenshin?" he demanded.

"Kenshin's gone?" Yahiko asked, his eyes wide. "No!"

Kaoru shook her head, squeezing the bag. "You were right, Sano," she said in a tiny voice. "There was an envelope."

"Kuso!" he swore, slamming his fist against the decking. "When did he leave? We might catch him."

"Just after you did," she replied, her voice gaining a bit of strength through use. "He'll be back." Kaoru swallowed. "I know he will."

Sano stood up and began pacing, punching the palm of his left hand. "What happened, Jou-chan?"

"We were cleaning the dishes, and he went out to dump the water. There was a _messenger_," she spat the word. "He tried to hand Kenshin an envelope, but I stopped him. I yelled." Her eyes filled with tears. "But when I turned around, Kenshin had left. With the envelope. And that horrible uniform."

"No way," Yahiko protested. "Kenshin wouldn't leave like that. Not again. He said he was home!"

"He's coming back," Kaoru insisted. "He left his bag."

"Well then why'd he leave at all? Where would he have gone?" Yahiko asked, both confused and frustrated.

Kaoru sniffed, drying her eyes on her kimono sleeve. She had no verifiable answer, but shared her suspicions. "He probably took that uniform back to whoever sent it. I've never seen him so mad at someone who wasn't armed and spoiling for a fight." _He's tired of this game_, she thought. _He wants to be left alone_. "He'll talk it over with this Okami or whoever. He'll come back and this whole thing will be over."

"What do you think they want from him?" The young fighter shifted to a more comfortable position. "It isn't like before, is it? They don't want him to kill anyone. Everyone knows that Kenshin won't kill anymore. Right?" At their silence, he scowled. "Kenshin won't kill anyone! He didn't even kill Shishio."

Sano stopped his pacing and leaned against the wall. "He didn't kill Shishio because Shishio burst into flames all on his own, Yahiko. Otherwise he might have had to."

Kaoru shook her head violently. "No. Not Kenshin. He's mastered the Hiten Mitsurugi now. He won't ever become a hitokiri again." She thought back. With Jin-e, he had nearly killed to save her life. With Saitou, he'd reverted to his old self from the Bakumatsu, because of the memories of fighting Saitou in the past. Okubo had tried to blackmail Kenshin into assassinating Shishio, but even that hadn't worked. Even if this Okami's friend was threatening them, Kenshin wouldn't cave in. Not her Kenshin.

"No," she repeated, more strongly. "He'll _never_ be a hitokiri again. Never."

They stayed on the porch in silence, watching as the sun dipped down behind the trees and cast the yard in burnished orange and dusky red. The air was growing cooler as night fell, and the breeze pushed distant clouds across the sky.

It was Yahiko's snoring that interrupted their waiting. Kaoru looked up, and reluctantly set the bag down for the first time since earlier in Kenshin's room. She gently shook her student awake.

"Come on, Yahiko. You need to get to bed. It's late and you've had a long day."

"M'not tired," the boy mumbled. "I wanna see Kenshin get back."

Kaoru smiled. "I'll wake you up when he gets here. How's that?" She steered him inside the dojo, their conversation fading into the distance.

Sano shook his head popped his knuckles for good measure. He wasn't so sure he agreed with Kaoru. _Yeah, Kenshin doesn't want to kill_, he reasoned. _But what if it doesn't matter what he wants?_ Sano brought to mind a night that seemed far distant, when he'd thrown a party for his friends at the dojo, and then gone with Katsu to blow up the government. _Once Sekihotai, always Sekihotai, no matter what gets lost in the shuffle._ He'd gone willingly, throwing away the present to live for his past. He'd been wrong, but he was almost certain he'd do it again. Or something similar. After ten years, his loyalty to Captain Sagara was still that strong.

It hadn't taken Sano even a month of hanging around Kenshin to realize the man was different from the other imperialists. But that same man might make a mistake now like Sano had made with Katsu. Was Kenshin allowing his past to drag him back, or was he acting in the present for the future? Sano had to believe that Kenshin knew what he was doing. The man had become almost a replacement captain for him, fighting for the Meiji just as Captain Sagara had. Kenshin had woken him up from a ten-year funk, and Sano had been a willing recruit.

And after Kyoto, he knew better than to up and leave without Sano's permission. _Kaoru may be living in an innocent dream world, but she's right about one thing at least. Kenshin will be back. Just, _how_ will he return?_ Sano didn't know whether Kenshin would kill or not, but he had his own suspicions. Kenshin was good at misdirection, but he'd been slipping these last two days, had even lied outright about why he wanted to talk to Saitou. He may not act it, but a year of studying Kenshin had done a lot to hone his observation skills. And from what he'd seen, there was a lot to worry about. _Kenshin_, he thought, _you_ _better not come back all amber-eyed and evil_.

Sano had heard a lot about the hitokiri during the Revolution. Most of what he'd heard as a boy had probably been rumors blown out of proportion, but he knew of at least three hitokiri that had been bad enough to live up to those rumors. Jin-e and Usui had certainly been as evil as the men in Captain Sagara's unit had said. Shishio had been worse.

Kaoru's footsteps briefly interrupted his thoughts, and he nodded at her as she resumed her post at the steps, setting a lantern on the porch and laying her hand on one of the straps of Kenshin's bag. He felt bad for her. If she'd had some realistic idea, it wouldn't hurt her as much when the truth walked through the dojo's gate.

_Saitou works to pick the government clean of corrupt politicians_, Sano mused. _Even though he fought on the Bakufu side during the Revolution._ He had to respect that, even if he hated the man on a more personal level. Saitou was a wolf working with a sword the way Katsu worked with a brush. Sano clenched his fist, and stared at it in the flickering lamplight. _I'll be damned if I let this thing twist Kenshin. Saitou and Katsu work to keep the government pure, I'll work to keep _Kenshin_ pure. For Jou-chan and Yahiko. For Megumi and the others. For Captain Sagara. And for myself_, he swore. _There's no way I'll let this tarnish you, Kenshin!_


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, the setting, the time period, or even the plot that has gone before. Also, I have no money. It will be a pointless effort in malicious spite to sue me over this piece of _fan fiction_.

Notes: Wow. This is sure getting a lot of reviews. I didn't think I'd even be noticed for over a month! Thank you!

* * *

Chapter 8

Kenshin sat midway up the staircase to the shrine, his sword across his lap and the uniform at his feet. It was still light enough for him to make out the writing on the thin strip of paper in his hands.

Kajou Akihiro, Shuichiro Jin

Midnight, Zen'yoji Temple, the stone garden

He bit his lip and tucked the paper back inside the envelope. A temple. Kenshin vividly remembered his first assignment, so very many years ago. It had been a shrine. The irony was almost too much. He wondered briefly whether Yamagata had planned it this way, to reinforce the changelessness of the situation. Kenshin shook his head with a grimace. Yamagata was not so cruel as that.

_And how cruel am I?_ he thought. _To leave Kaoru-dono like I did… I have hurt her. Again_. But what other option had he had? Her words had made it clear to him that she would disapprove of his current thoughts, would fight him on it. Kenshin didn't have either the time or the heart to argue with her, and in the back of his mind, he harbored a niggling fear that her rejection of his actions would extend to a rejection of _him_.

Kenshin remembered his friends' reactions when Okubo had made his request in May. He hadn't been able to get a word in edgewise during their vehement denials. In truth, he hadn't known what to say if he had been given the opportunity to speak. If Kaoru-dono was any measure of the others, he knew he wouldn't be allowed to entertain these deliberations.

But this was a decision he had to make on his own. It always had been. He had decided on his own to leave his shishou, after seeing the state of things down the mountain. That decision had been one he'd regretted later, but in the same circumstances, he would make it again. He was making it now. Or considering it, anyway. He rubbed a finger absently across the smooth paper of the envelope.

If he was going to live with whatever decision he came to, he had to make that decision without outside interference. If he killed again, it had to be something he chose to do. If he continued to allow the Meiji to crumble, that also had to be something he chose. It had surprised him this afternoon that he felt equally guilty about avoiding the violence of the present as about contributing to the violence of the past. He'd never expected to feel that way.

Perhaps Saitou's moral code was an appropriate middle ground between the blind trust in Katsura-san and wanton killing of his years as hitokiri and the blind eye to reality and stubborn pacifism of his years wandering. It did bear a striking resemblance to his shishou's view on life. Kenshin knew he'd gotten it wrong when he was 14, that he'd misinterpreted the teachings of Hiten Mitsurugi. He thought he knew them better now. There had to be a way to get involved in the cleanup without tying himself too strictly to any one faction.

_And whatever else_, he thought, _Saitou has gotten that part right_. His friends hadn't believed him when he told them that Saitou would turn on the Meiji government if it became corrupt, but he knew the man better than they did. The Miburo would fight to the death to protect Japan, and if that protection involved the fall of the Meiji, Saitou would ensure it. Perhaps it was Aku Soku Zan that kept the man sane and helped him survive the killing with both body and spirit intact.

The sun had finally completed its arc below the horizon, leaving Kenshin sitting in darkness on the stone staircase. He set his sakabatou to the side and stood up. He wasn't certain yet whether he would kill these two men. But he would attend their meeting. That much, at least.

The night air was made cooler by a breeze as he exchanged the vibrant pink and white of his regular attire for the blue and grey of the Choshu-Shishi. "Well," he whispered as he tugged on the arm guards. "If this one does … if I do kill tonight, the gi will hold the blood well." He shuddered as he slipped the assignment into his sleeve and picked up the sakabatou. The uniform was too familiar after eleven years.

_Zen'yoji Temple_. Kenshin started walking. He had quite some time before midnight, but he knew his targets would arrive much earlier to scout the area for enemy spies. He had to be in place long before then. In Kyoto, he'd had a choice in when he arrived to deliver tenchu. Here, now, he was not confident that he could swiftly enter the temple, complete his task, and leave without being seen. He'd have to settle in for a long wait.

But even with this precaution, the marks left by a sakabatou, no matter how fatal the force used or the placement of the strikes, would tie him to the scene. He could kill with a sakabatou if he put his mind to it, but he could not kill anonymously. The instincts of a shadow hitokiri which he'd thought to be buried deep within himself were surfacing too swiftly for his comfort. It made him uneasy that he could so easily return to the trappings of his past.

"Battousai," muttered a voice in front of him, startling him from his reverie.

"Oro?" Kenshin looked up to see Saitou leaning against the outside wall of the temple, a daisho on the ground next to him. Shaking his head at himself for allowing his thoughts to run away on a mission, Kenshin stopped and met Saitou's eyes. "What are you doing here, Saitou?"

The man nodded thoughtfully, approval rolling off of him in waves. "Congratulations, Battousai. I was thinking you'd never come to your senses. I like the gi." He absently rubbed his cigarette out on the temple wall.

"You weren't behind that, were you, Saitou?" Kenshin kept his voice to a low growl, not trusting himself with a louder volume.

"Tch. As if I would stoop so low as to court a hitokiri for a comrade. No. I'm here to kill a couple yakuza, same as you," he muttered. "Though, if Hitokiri Battousai is joining the fray, I'll gladly bow out to take care of some _other _unpleasant business. There's more than enough to go around."

Kenshin gritted his teeth and nodded, his hand going to the hilt of his sword.

Saitou gave him an odd look, and then spoke. "Kajou Akihiro has been dealing in arms for two years now. He just recently made a new contact in China and is planning a shipment of eight gatling guns for use in Tokyo. He was a member of Takeda Kanryuu's opium ring, and has been known to have wells poisoned when families disappoint him."

He reached into a pocket and drew out another cigarette, taking a moment to light it and wave out the match. "Shuichiro Jin runs a series of brothels in Tokyo's pleasure district, and treats his girls little better than cattle. He's selling eighteen of them to Kajou in return for the guns, and Kajou will then give fourteen of them to his supplier on the mainland as payment. He's keeping the other four as profit."

Kenshin took a moment to steady himself, trying to keep from reeling at the information. "Thank you, Saitou."

"I'll talk to Yamagata. You'll have a _reason_ to kill, Battousai. It keeps the blade sharp, and the spirit strong." The disdain Kenshin was far more familiar with crossed Saitou's face again, and the man held the daisho out to him. "You can't do this job with _that_ thing."

He accepted the weapons with a grimace, sliding them into the sakabatou's place through his obi. Their combined weight at his hip sent a feeling of rightness through him, a feeling that was simultaneously sickening and comforting. Seeing Saitou's hand still outstretched, Kenshin transferred the sakabatou to his right hip, across from his new daisho. "I'll be keeping it, thank you," he muttered.

Saitou shook his head with an exaggerated eye roll. "Just don't use it on your targets," he spat, pushing away from the wall and sauntering into the darkness.

Kenshin watched the man leave, wondering what Tokio thought about her husband's actions. _Kaoru-__dono_. He shook his head. He couldn't deal with that right now. It would distract him from this task.

He peered into the darkness, relieved that he seemed truly alone. A jump put him on the temple's roof, and Kenshin padded lightly across the shingles toward the gardens on the other side. He had lost some time during his daydreaming and his conversation with the wolf, but he doubted the bodyguards would be in the gardens quite this early. In Meiji, there were no hitokiri to be stalking them, so rival yakuza would be the main fear for these men. And even during Bakumatsu, no one looked _up_ when searching for danger.

He reached the edge of the temple roof and looked across the way to the carefully tended gardens. The rock garden was not the closest one to his current location, but it did have a small, covered gazebo as its center. He would watch from there, he decided as he jumped to the ground and followed the shadows to his next perch.

He'd only been watching the moon for an hour when two men slinked toward the gazebo from opposite directions. _These will be the scouts_, Kenshin thought. He sat still, confident that he was low enough to the roof to be unnoticeable and high enough from eye level to be ignored. He fought the urge to chuckle as the two peeked around every rock in the garden, never once glancing to the rooftops.

Satisfied with their preliminary examination of the grounds, they each went the way they'd come, returning moments later with their respective charges and additional guards. Kenshin studied the men in the garden, gauging the abilities of the six bodyguards he'd have to dispatch. They didn't seem like much of a threat, and he turned his attentions on his targets, dressed in western suits instead of traditional Japanese garments. Something about that made him even more resentful of the men.

Kenshin listened as they exchanged pleasantries and laughed about prior business arrangements. He took note of the buyers Shuichiro had in mind for the Tokyo market, though he was sure Saitou either had the information already or would have it before he saw the man next. The easy laughter from below made him sick. To care so little about the lives they were planning to ruin…

_They're no better than I am_, he thought harshly. _Eight men down there. And eight new widows after tonight_. Kenshin shut his eyes against the self-hatred that threatened to suffocate him. _Possibly children left with no father. How many lives am I ruining—have I ruined _already_—and I have the gall to despise these men for their laughter_.

His fists clenched. _Don't think about it_, he told himself. _Just … don't think about it_. Kenshin shook his head. No. He _had_ to think about it. He had to be aware of his actions and the reasons for them. To do otherwise was to become a mindless tool. He would not allow that. Not this time around. What these men were planning would destroy innocent lives far surpassing the number of widows and orphans he would create by his actions in this garden.

Kenshin opened dark blue eyes and focused on the men below, planning his landing to give himself as much of the element of surprise as possible. There. Directly in the middle of Kajou's three guards, where he could take them in a spin before beheading their employer. Then a few steps to the other four.

_Forgive me, Kaoru-dono_, he begged. _This is the way it must be_. "Aku," he breathed, readying his katana. "Soku." Kenshin tensed, preparing his body for both the leap and landing. "_Zan_."


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, the setting, the time period, or even the plot that has gone before. Also, I have no money. It will be a pointless effort in malicious spite to sue me over this piece of _fan fiction_.

Additional Note: Some of the lines in this are from the manga and/or OVA. Also, I'm sorry it took a bit longer to get this chapter out.

* * *

Chapter 9

Sano blinked tired eyes up at the stars. He'd spent a lot of time in his youth staring at the night sky wishing that Captain Sagara was alive and leading him through life. And the man had returned once, in the forests on the way to Kyoto. Sano smiled at that, recalling his first reaction to the sight. Captain Sagara's appearance then was what had saved him. It had been the inspiration he'd needed to unlock the Futae no Kiwami.

So now he was looking up again, waiting for a different man to return. Captain Sagara's shade had been just like the man, gentle and encouraging, and concerned for Sano's wellbeing. Sano hoped the man who walked through the dojo gate would be the same Kenshin who had left earlier. He didn't want to lose another captain, and he knew Kaoru and Yahiko would be shattered if their Kenshin was replaced by the killer who'd fought with Saitou in May.

Kaoru got up with a sigh and picked up the lantern. "This needs a new candle," she murmured. "It'll go out otherwise."

Sano nodded and was left in darkness as Kaoru disappeared with the light. They'd been sitting there for hours, mostly silent. The one conversation he'd tried to start had been painful for Kaoru, and he'd dropped it after a few sentences. It was a relief to him that she was so certain Kenshin would be back, but her refusal of the possibility that he was doing anything other than arguing with the letter writer worried him.

By Sano's estimation, it was maybe an hour or so after midnight when they heard the scraping of sandals on the path outside the dojo. He hardly recognized the dark figure that staggered through the gate, head tipped low enough for the bangs to obscure the entire face. Sano frowned, taking in the effect of the blood-heavy Choshu gi and hakama, the high-tied hair, the foreign cluster of swords that seemed too heavy for Kenshin's slight figure.

"Kenshin!" Kaoru was off of the porch and halfway to Kenshin with the lantern before Sano thought to stop her. Kenshin flinched back from the light with a shudder, even while Kaoru, gasping, dropped the lantern.

"Kenshin," she whispered this time, her tears audible. "Are you—" she stopped, raising a hesitant hand out as he continued walking past her, making his way toward the well as though he hadn't seen her.

Sano stood up and walked out into the yard to stand near Kaoru, who stood hugging herself and trying not to cry. Keeping an eye on Kenshin, he put a hand on Kaoru's shoulder for comfort, and was only marginally surprised when she buried her face in his jacket and cried. He'd known the truth would hurt her.

Sano had seen Kenshin bloody before. He'd seen Kenshin angry and sad, over fighting and other things. But he'd never seen Kenshin this upset. The man's breathing was ragged, his demeanor that of the self-tortured. He watched as Kenshin shakily drew up a bucket of water and upended it over his head. In the dim light thrown by Kaoru's discarded lantern, Sano saw the water run red.

Four buckets later, he paused, clenching his hands on the edge of the well and staring into the water, shoulders trembling. He brought a hand up to his left cheek, and looked at it briefly before wiping it on the side of his hakama, leaving a red smear against the blood-spattered grey. Another bucket of water joined the first five, and Sano thought he heard a choked sob come from the man.

He watched as Kenshin removed the swords from his obi, leaning all three against the well with unsteady hands before pulling up yet another bucket of water. He did not pour this one on himself, but emptied into the laundry bucket before sinking to his knees in the reddish puddle he'd made.

Now that Kenshin was facing toward him, Sano could actually see his face through the curtain of dripping hair. The eyes, not glowing amber, he was glad to note, were preoccupied, distant. Sano doubted Kenshin had even seen Kaoru with the lantern when he'd come in, and wondered that he'd come to the dojo at all in this state. He supposed it was an indication of how strongly Kenshin equated the dojo with home.

The bucketfuls of water hadn't done much to clean the blood off his face, and the side of his neck and entire left cheek were smeared red. Sano narrowed his eyes as he watched Kenshin remove his gi and begin to feverishly scrub the garment in the tub, occasionally bringing a forearm up to wipe tears from his eyes. Kenshin's face hadn't been splashed with _that_ much blood, he realized. It was the scar, opened up and trickling blood down his neck and over his shoulder.

Kaoru's sobs had subsided, and Sano looked down to see her staring vacantly at the fallen lantern as though she could wish away the last few days entirely. "Jou-chan," he whispered, untangling her fingers from his jacket. "Come on. He came back. He'll still be here in the morning."

She was like a puppet, mutely following where he led, his arm around her waist to support her as he took her up the steps and into the dojo. Kenshin, he knew, would be at that bit of laundry long after it was clean. And with the amount of blood he'd seen, it would take several more buckets of water and well over an hour for Kenshin to be satisfied. He could spare the time to put Kaoru to bed. She didn't need to see more of this.

When Sano returned he was surprised to find Kenshin had given up on the laundry, and was sitting with his back up against the well and his face in his hands, biting back sobs. _So this is what it takes to make a grown man cry_, Sano thought as he approached. _I wonder if he cried then, too. During the Bakumatsu. He was just a kid_.

Sano reached up to snag a cloth from the clothesline and crouched down beside Kenshin. "This where you picked up the laundry thing, Kenshin?" There was no acknowledgement of his words, and Sano thought back to the fight Kenshin had had with Saitou, where nothing could get through to them.

Maybe he didn't go by Kenshin then. Saitou certainly never used the name, and Okubo hadn't either. But he'd be damned before calling the man Battousai. Sano tried again. "Himura?" That got something. _A twitch maybe, but that's better than nothing_. "Himura, you all right?" he asked softly.

Kenshin looked up at him then, confused for a moment before recognition sparked in his eyes. "Sano," he whispered hoarsely.

"Yeah. I asked if you were okay." He held out the cloth, and watched as Kenshin wordlessly folded it in quarters and set it against his cheek.

He shook his head. "The blood will not come out," he murmured, eyes becoming unfocused again.

Sano wondered what he was seeing at the moment, but decided he'd rather not know. Kenshin had worked for two years in the shadows of Kyoto before his duties changed, and rumors had put his kills at more than a hundred in the first six months alone.

"It never comes out," he continued. "No matter how many times I try, everything smells of blood. Everything I touch is stained with it." He shook his head. "Tenchu?" he laughed, bitterly. "This is _hell_, no matter what Katsura-san calls it. And I belong here."

"That's bullshit!" Sano yelled at him, grabbing Kenshin's forearm and dragging him to his feet. The shock on Kenshin's face was almost comical, and Sano would have laughed if they had been anywhere else, doing anything else. _Probably none of his Choshu buddies would have called him on anything_, Sano realized. He snorted. _Some friends_.

Sano picked up the three swords and thrust them into Kenshin's hands before he'd had a chance to react to being manhandled. "You go change. Then you sleep if you can. I'll finish this." He propelled Kenshin toward the dojo, a little rougher than was necessary.

"And don't think I'm not watching you," he called as Kenshin turned around at the stairs to voice an objection. Kenshin shut his mouth and climbed the stairs. Sano picked up a low "Hai, Sano-san" before the diminutive fighter disappeared into the building.

"Sano-san?" he repeated to himself. Sano shook his head as he hung his jacket over the clothesline and brought the lantern closer to the well. _What am I _doing? _I never do my own laundry, and now I've volunteered to clean up after Kenshin?_ "Well," he shrugged, dumping the bloody wash water, "at least there's no one to catch me doing it."

Sano wasn't terribly concerned with getting all the blood out. Kenshin's earlier efforts had already washed out most of the blood. The gi was dark enough to hide what Sano missed, and the blood was fresh enough that most would come out without too much work on his part. _Let Kenshin rewash it tomorrow if he cares so much_, Sano thought as he scrubbed. He could already see the redhead doing just that, and he wondered how much of Kenshin's love of laundry was related to his sense of guilt. _Probably most of it_.

He squeezed the gi out over the water, and was pleased to see only a tinge of pink in the water running back into the bucket. "Good enough," he muttered, holding the gi out for inspection. Sano slung it over the clothesline and retrieved his jacket before kicking over the wash bucket to empty it. "Not like I'm good at housework, anyway."

Sano blew out the lantern's candle and made his way into the dojo, walking past the room Kaoru had set up for him the night before. He came to a stop at the shoji to Kenshin's room, and sat down. He didn't know whether Kenshin would be able to sleep, but he had no intention of missing potential clues by not listening. Kaoru had told him about Kenshin's dreams a while ago, and even Yahiko seemed aware that some careful listening at night was a better indicator of Kenshin's mood than anything Kenshin said while awake.

Sano leaned forward a little, resting his ear against the rice paper. It seemed he was in luck tonight. The stress of the last few days followed by tonight's events must have sent Kenshin to dreaming despite himself. He couldn't make out anything too distinctive, but he caught something that sounded like an apology. _Very Kenshin_, he thought, prying open the shoji about an inch so he could hear better.

"I will kill… to let others live. I'll push my way forward, over corpses," Kenshin was mumbling. Sano frowned. "But when we reach the new age…"

_What?_ Sano prodded. _When we reach the new age, _what? Given the first part of the phrase, it sounded like Kenshin had still been a hitokiri when he came up with his no-kill vow. Sano wondered when exactly Kenshin had made his oath, and what had prompted it.

Sano heard the shifting of fabric on fabric as Kenshin tossed in his sleep. Not for the first time, he wondered how Kenshin managed to stay upright when he slept, especially if he wasn't sleeping soundly.

"No," Kenshin whispered. "I wouldn't kill you. Whatever happened, I could never…" his voice trailed off into a moan. "Not to you. Never."

The room was silent for a moment, and Sano leaned back, easing the shoji shut. He heard a strangled gasp and the metallic thud of a sword falling to the tatami mat. Several minutes later, the shoji was opened from the inside, and Kenshin blinked down at him, dressed in pink and with his sakabatou at his hip.

"You know, you talk in your sleep," Sano said, not looking up.

Kenshin sat down next to him, placing the sakabatou on the floor at his side. He was silent for a while, studying the mat. "This one doesn't know how Saitou does it."

Sano looked at him, trying unsuccessfully to catch his downturned eyes. "Saitou's a bastard. That's how he does it." No reply was forthcoming, so Sano handed Kenshin a new cloth. "You're bleeding again."

Kenshin took the rag and held it up to his cheek. "It hasn't bled in thirteen years," he whispered. "Not since she… Gomen, Sano."

"For what? You didn't kill _me_," he replied, regretting his words when he saw Kenshin flinch. _Great going, Sano. Rub it in, that'll make him want to talk._

"You," Kenshin began, hesitantly. "You wanted to see how this one was different from the other Imperialists." He shook his head, holding the makeshift bandage to his cheek. It was starting to spot through. "I'm not any different after all."

"Yes you _are_," Sano insisted a bit more loudly than he'd intended. His words and tone shocked Kenshin into looking at him, and he continued, making sure to keep the eye contact. "You're not doing this because of money or power or spite. You're doing this because… well, for regular folks who don't deserve to be shot at while buying food."

Sano peered into Kenshin's eyes, now only flecked with the blue from last night. He had to make sure he got through Kenshin's wall of guilt before he closed himself off again and Sano lost his chance. "That makes you different," he said, watching for a flicker of acceptance in those eyes.

He clenched a fist and waved it in Kenshin's face, trying for a different angle. "And you better believe that if that ever changes, _I'll_ be the one to knock some sense into you. I've got your back, buddy. I'm not going to let you get twisted inside."

Kenshin closed his eyes, and they sat in silence for a minute.

_Another success for Sano_, he thought. _I gotta find something that'll snap him out of this. At least he isn't on about the blood anymore. I wasn't there in Kyoto. I don't know enough to bring him back if his mind drifts off to the Bakumatsu_.

"Kenshin." Sano waited for the twitch in Kenshin's shoulders that signaled recognition. He hoped his next plan of attack wasn't a mistake. "How many last night?"

The man across from him seemed to draw into himself briefly before swallowing. "Two yakuza bosses," Kenshin whispered, tracing lines on the floor with a shaking finger. Sano let him pull his thoughts together, and was rewarded for his uncharacteristic patience when Kenshin continued a moment later, in the same trembling voice.

"An arms dealer and a … procurer of women. Their bodyguards." Kenshin's finger stopped its tracing as his hand clenched into a fist. "Eight men, Sano. And now, eight widows."

"You idiot," Sano muttered. "Anyone who works for the yakuza as a bodyguard is just as corrupt as the guy who hires him. There's no family involved. They're not blackmailing their bodyguards like they did Yahiko. They can't afford protection that's not devoted."

He paused to let that sink in. "Maybe the main boss will have a wife, but for the rest? The yakuza _is_ their family. Nobody's mourning a thing today, Kenshin. They're all too busy fighting over who gets promoted because these guys are gone."

Kenshin blinked, a little of the tension fading from his shoulders.

"Take it from one who knows, Kenshin. Even Yahiko could tell you that."

"Thank you, Sano," he replied, the corner of his mouth turning up into a tiny smile. "This one is lucky to have you here, he most certainly is."

_Finally! 'He most certainly is.'_ Sano grinned broadly, and stood up. "Damn straight you are, Kenshin. I'll go get us a paper later, find out what they're saying about last night. Maybe talk to Katsu. He's been saying it's high time the government got personal with those thugs. He'll probably write about a hero for the people."

Kenshin shook his head, still seated. "This one is no hero, Sano. He's nothing more than an oath-breaking hitokiri."

"I don't want to hear that out of you, and neither does anyone else." Glaring, Sano again shook his fist at Kenshin. "I'm keeping an eye on you, Kenshin. You turn bad on us, I'll let you know. Until then, you leave off all this 'unworthy' talk. Got it?"

"Hai."

Sano raised an eyebrow at that. "What, I'm not 'Sano-san' anymore?"

"Oro?" Kenshin looked up him with a frown. "Did this one call you that?"

"Never mind. What about some breakfast, hey Kenshin? It's been a long and hungry night waiting for you to get back and listening to you dream."


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, the setting, the time period, or even the plot that has gone before. Also, I have no money. It will be a pointless effort in malicious spite to sue me over this piece of _fan fiction_.

Note: Sorry, this chapter is a bit shorter than the last few have been. But the next one will be plenty long to make up for it!

* * *

Chapter 10

The smell of miso soup drifted through the dojo, and Kaoru turned on her futon so that she could stare at the ceiling. Of the people in her dojo lately, only Kenshin would be making breakfast, and only Kenshin's miso soup would actually smell like miso. "He's still here," she whispered, not liking the undercurrent of fear that rippled through her at the thought. _Who is still here_, a tiny voice muttered. _Kenshin, _my_ Kenshin? Or that other Kenshin with scary eyes and a cold voice_.

She made a fist and sat up. She was assistant master of the Kamiya Kasshin style. If she was going to lay in bed all day afraid of a man who might not even be there, she didn't deserve the title. _It will be Kenshin_, she thought. _It _has_ to be Kenshin. Hitokiri don't make soup in the mornings_. Kaoru folded up her futon and threw on her house jacket, not bothering to dress fully. She had to see Kenshin.

The man was kneeling in the yard, poking a long cooking chopstick at a simmering pot of soup. He'd plastered a bandage over his left cheek like the one he'd worn in Kyoto, and he looked exhausted. But aside from that and the deep blue gi hanging from the clothesline, Kaoru could almost forget last night ever happened. It had seemed rather dreamlike, after all. _Or nightmarish_, she corrected herself.

"Kenshin?"

He looked up at her, a small smile on his lips. "Good morning, Kaoru-dono. This one hopes you will not mind waiting a little longer for your breakfast."

Kaoru shook her head, seeing that he had a small bucket of rice at his side and was forming rice balls while he cooked the soup. "I don't mind." She walked up to him, needing to see him from a closer distance.

"Violet," she murmured without meaning to. His eyes were violet still. Flecked with blue, but without a trace of amber. She felt dizzy with the relief.

"Oro?"

"You came back, Kenshin. You did. The real you." She blinked back tears, angry at herself for turning into a puddle again. Megumi would have slapped her, she was sure. "I was so afraid, when I saw you last night, I—"

Kenshin flicked his hair over his face in a nod. "This one will have a home here as long as Kaoru-dono wants him here, that he will." He paused, his fingers a little unsteady as he shaped a handful of rice. "This one will understand if... last night…"

Scowling, Kaoru smacked the back of his head, almost sending him into the soup with an "oro" or two. "Don't ever talk like that! I need you here, Kenshin." She watched with her arms crossed as he dusted off his gi and sighed at the rice ball that fell apart in the miso soup. "I need _you_ here," she repeated softly. "Not that other you."

"Other me?"

"Battousai," she clarified, sitting down beside him and scooping up a handful of rice to shape. "I don't want you to revert back to that man with the golden eyes." She still woke in a sweat some nights thinking about how close she'd been to losing him that May.

She set a misshapen lump of rice next to the neat row of spheres. "I think," she said, pausing to taste her words, "I think I could live with it if you… if you killed again." _Could I really, though?_ she asked herself. _If he did those things, became that man again…_ She was so afraid that he would come back different, and then not at all.

"But not if I lost you," Kaoru concluded softly.

"Aa." He set another perfectly round rice ball on the plate and scraped up another handful. "That worries this one as well."

_What? No, Kenshin, you're supposed to be reassuring me. Telling me that you have it under control_. Kaoru felt her breathing quicken at the realization that even Kenshin wasn't sure what the effects of his actions would be.

"Hey, Jou-chan!" Sano called, coming around the back of the dojo. "You're not helping with breakfast, are you?"

Thankful for the distraction from her darkening thoughts, Kaoru scowled and threw her current, oblong rice ball at him. "Don't think you can just say things like that and get away with it, Sano." She turned her back on him and reached for the chopstick to give the soup a vicious stir.

Kenshin snatched the cooking stick before she touched it and gently stirred. "Why don't you wake Yahiko, Kaoru-dono?" he asked. "This one only has a few more rice balls to make before we can eat."

"Okay," she agreed, snickering at Sano, who was busy picking rice out of his hair.

"Are you two okay, Kenshin?" He sat down where Kaoru had been and swiped a rice ball. "She handling it all right?"

Kenshin shrugged, replacing the stolen rice ball with a new one. "She's afraid of the same thing this one fears, Sano." He took the soup off the little stove and set it on a nearby rock before adding the cup of miso solution. "Was she in the yard last night, Sano?"

"Yeah. She saw you." Sano decided Kenshin didn't need to know that Kaoru had been unable to do anything but cry at the sight. "What's she afraid of, Kenshin?" _What could you _both _be afraid of?_

"That this one won't be Kenshin anymore." He placed the last rice ball, frowned at the plate, and began reshaping the one Kaoru had attempted.

Sano scoffed. "I already told you I had your back. You got nothing to worry about there." He looked toward the dojo to be sure the other two weren't coming. "When do you think you'll get another envelope?" he asked softly. "If I'm going to be at the dojo every time, I have to know the schedule at least."

Kenshin shook his head. "Can this wait, Sano? Until a little later, please."

"Sure, sorry. I'm getting ahead of myself here."

"This one understands, Sano. And is very grateful, he is."

Kaoru came down the steps then, her arms filled with stacked bowls and chopsticks. A bleary-eyed Yahiko stumbled after her, muttering about early mornings and ugly raccoons.

They ate quietly, Yahiko too tired from his repeated late nights, and the others too absorbed in the last night's events to want to say much. Sano left first to talk to Katsu, and Yahiko followed his lead to go back to bed. The silence was somehow more oppressive with just two diners left.

"Kaoru-dono," Kenshin said, setting his bowl aside. "This one needs to retrieve something from the shrine. If you will leave these dishes, this one will do them when he returns, he will."

She nodded silently, and watched him go. Her mind superimposed the dark, bloody figure from last night over the brightly dressed wanderer who crossed the yard. So much blood. He'd done a good job of cleaning it up, she noticed as she looked at the area around the well. Even the bloody puddles had been washed away. _I suppose he's had a lot of practice at hiding evidence of murder_, she thought, her eyes stinging with the return of last night's tears.

Kenshin, _her_ Kenshin, the wanderer who lived here… was capable of murder. _The gi hadn't been splashed with blood_, she recalled. _It had been drenched in it_. She'd never seen that much blood in one place before in her life. _How many people have to die to spill that much blood? Three? More?_ She hoped it wasn't more. She hoped the rumors about Battousai's ruthlessness were as exaggerated as those about his appearance. She couldn't accept that her Kenshin was capable of wholesale slaughter. But the alternative was that it wasn't her Kenshin anymore. _Which_ _is worse?_ she asked herself, unable to find an answer.

* * *

Sano hadn't returned by the time Kenshin arrived back at the dojo, though this came as no surprise. What was surprising was the note tacked to the dojo's gate saying that Kaoru had gone to give a few lessons at the Makekawa dojo and would be back for a late lunch. Kenshin shrugged and unpinned the note as he entered. He hadn't remembered any outside lessons planned for the week, but there had been a lot going on lately. He didn't fault her for needing to be alone. _Away from me_, he thought sadly.

Kenshin frowned, seeing that the dishes from breakfast had been taken to the kitchen. He knew Yahiko wouldn't have done them, but Kaoru normally hated to clean. He had been looking forward to the mundane task as a way to get away from his thoughts. Perhaps he could come up with something suitably time consuming to prepare for lunch. Or maybe he could chop some wood. _No_, he decided. _No chopping. It's too soon to do that. I might not come back to Meiji if I get lost in it_.

He entered the dojo, planning to set down his spare gi and hakama before taking an inventory of the kitchen. If he'd been any deeper in thought, he'd have run into Yahiko, standing in his room with his back to the open shoji.

"Yahiko?" he asked, moving around the boy to set the folded clothing by his travel bag. Kenshin stole a quick glance at the daisho in the opposite corner, realizing with a sinking feeling that the swords were what had captured Yahiko's attention. And the bloody cloth he'd used on his cheek last night. Together, they spelled out more than Kenshin wanted to explain.

"Why'd you do it, Kenshin?" Yahiko asked, sounding half strangled. "_Why?_"

Kenshin stood silent for a moment, trying to discover an answer that Yahiko would understand but that would hopefully mask some of the worst details. "Fifteen years ago, this one couldn't stand by and let innocent people suffer, Yahiko. He still can't."

He sighed. "Meiji hasn't turned out as this one had hoped, it most certainly hasn't. Many more people will suffer if this one does nothing. He cannot allow that."

"You saved people before!" Yahiko yelled, turning toward Kenshin with his fists clenched at his side. "You saved me! And Sano, and Megumi, and everyone. With_out_ killing!"

Kenshin bowed his head. "And it isn't enough, Yahiko," he murmured. "This one can never hope to save them all, but he can save more than he has."

"This is about the girl, isn't it? The one in the market who got shot. _She_ started all this!"

Kenshin jerked his head up to meet Yahiko's eyes with his own, now deep blue and narrow. "There are people suffering who I will never meet, Yahiko. If I can't save them personally," he swore, "I'll save them by destroying the people who would hurt them."

Taken aback by the shift, Yahiko stared up at Kenshin for a moment, his eyes wide. Then he shook his head. "You could knock them out and let the police handle it, like you always do," he insisted. "You don't have to kill people! What about the sword that _revitalizes?_ Did you forget it, or just replace it with the sword that kills people?"

Yahiko's face screwed into a frustrated scowl, and he turned and ran, leaving Kenshin standing alone in the dojo.


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, the setting, the time period, or even the plot that has gone before. Also, I have no money. It will be a pointless effort in malicious spite to sue me over this piece of _fan fiction_.

Note: This chapter is long. I hope it isn't too long. Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 11

Kenshin stared into the sudsy dishwater, absently wiping a bowl for the sixth time. He'd been cleaning these same dishes for an hour at least, but he couldn't bring himself to finally dry them and put them away. The images would come, no matter how he kept his hands busy, but he'd long since figured out that busier was better.

_-Those first swings were instinctual, finished before he had a chance to acknowledge the resistance of human flesh and bone. As his first set of victims crashed into the sand, it became harder.-  
_

He blinked, bringing his focus back to the bowl. There were no other chores available, and he needed to be busy enough to not think. He'd wash more laundry, but the only clothes that weren't already dry and put away were the ones they were wearing and the uniform he'd never be able to get clean enough. He'd started to fill the laundry tub earlier to wash it again, but the practical part of him realized he might need to wear it again soon, too soon for it to dry in time.

_-The remaining bodyguards crowded in front of Shuichiro, while the businessman quivered behind them. _He's evil. He must be destroyed_. The thoughts fueled his actions, but it wasn't so simple as that. The bodyguards. _They're innocent, but they're in the way.

_Another body fell, slit down the front like an emptied sack of rice.-_

There were logs outside that needed to be chopped, but Kenshin didn't trust himself with that task. He'd seen enough blood in his mind's eye while simply washing the kitchen knife to warn him away from actually using the hatchet.

_-"You're in my way," he tried, but they didn't back down, and now they were dead. _

_"Shuichiro Jin, you have done evil to the people of Japan." Kenshin ignored the stammered pleas for mercy and backed him into one of the larger rocks.-_

Slicing the vegetables for lunch had been enough to destroy his appetite, though he'd dutifully eaten until the others were finished. It had been a very quiet lunch. Kaoru still seemed frightened, which upset him more than anything else that had happened. Yahiko was clearly angry with him and taking it out on everyone by sulking. Sano hadn't been able to get a paper in town, since they had all been sold out, but he _had _recited the headlines he remembered, which only made the atmosphere worse. Kenshin realized that sensational headlines tended to follow gruesome murders, but he had hoped it would a while before his actions made headlines. In Kyoto, no one had noticed there was a new hitokiri for nearly a month. It had been even longer before they'd come up with a name for him.

_-In his job, there was no mercy. "Take your pick," he spat. __"__Tenchu or Aku Soku Zan. Either way, you die tonight." _

_A spray of red. Another lifeless thump into the sand. And realization.-_

"You know, that bowl's been perfectly clean for a while now."

Startled, Kenshin turned to the doorway, where Sano leaned with his arms across his chest. He sighed, and dunked the bowl in the rinse water. "This one was lost in thought, he was." He fished another bowl from the murky water and started on it.

"Kenshin." Sano paused, waiting for him to stop the obsessive cleaning. "_All_ those dishes are clean. Come on. We need to talk."

_We need to talk_. Iizuka had said that to him one night after an assignment. Kenshin put his hand up to his cheek. His former cleanup man had told him about scars that never healed until there'd been revenge. They'd talked by the river. _Back when I trusted him. Before..._

Sano snapped his fingers, bringing him out of his thoughts. "So hurry up and rinse those bowls. I don't have all day."

"Gomen, Sano." He picked up his pace, setting the bowls one by one on the side counter to drain. Kenshin could sense that Sano didn't want to wait for him to dry them, and so he left the dishes there and followed the taller man outside. He'd put them away after this talk. In fact, since Sano hadn't seemed to react poorly last night, there was a chance the younger man would actually listen to his concerns.

"Sano?" Kenshin leaned back against the dojo's outer wall and pulled his knees up closer to his chest. "Do you remember when this one was fighting Soujiro in Mt Hiei?"

Sano snorted. "How could I forget? I've never seen anyone get behind you like that Kenshin. The kid was downright scary." _Where is this coming from?_ he wondered. _What's the Tenken got to do with last night?_

Kenshin stared at the blue gi waving gently in the wind. "This one said then that Soujiro must have had a seal hiding some bad memories."

"Yeah, and he went into a screaming fit when you tampered with it. Your logic is more dangerous than your sword sometimes, Kenshin. I can't even count how many people you've talked out of stuff." _Myself included_.

"Aa. Sano," he hesitated. "This one is afraid his own seal is slipping." Kenshin brushed a hand over his cheek as he wrapped his arms around his knees. "There's always been such a clear separation between the hitokiri and wanderer, Sano. Even with Aku Soku Zan, I'm not sure how to blend them."

Sano sat in silence for a while, digesting this. In the last week, Kenshin had spoken more about his past than in the entire year before, but the stray comments and even the lengthy analysis about alleys in Kyoto hadn't prepared him for something this open. He decided to approach the statement from a less direct angle.

"What's this about Aku Soku Zan, Kenshin?" he asked. "You taking lessons from the cop?"

He shrugged. "It seems the right thing to do. Not the lessons," Kenshin added quickly. "But the motto. This one had a lot of respect for the Shinsengumi because of that motto, he did. And Shishou never hesitated to cut down bandits."

Sano nodded. _Makes sense. So he's thinking of a halfway point. Maybe a way to keep himself from sliding all the way back to Battousai. Well, if he's worrying about it, it makes my job easier_. "At least you're aware there could be a problem. Means I won't have to sit you down and convince you."

"Oro?"

"This is what I wanted to talk to you about. Last night you weren't answering to Kenshin." Sano kept his voice low, calm. There was no sense in getting Kenshin all stirred up over it. He just needed to air things out. "I had to call you Himura to even get through to you." Sano smiled when Kenshin groaned and put his head on his knees. "It wasn't like your fight with Saitou," he said as reassuringly as he could. "You weren't amber-eyed or anything. Just not quite in Meiji."

"That's exactly what this one's afraid of, Sano," he moaned through his arms. "Who knows what I'll do if—"

"Hey." Sano reached over and thumped Kenshin on the head. "I told you, no talk like that. I'm on it. If I have to sit on this porch every night waiting for you to drag yourself back here, I will." _Though I'm not doing any more of your laundry_, he added to himself. "And if Himura is what it takes, then that's what I'll call you when you get back. Talk you back into Meiji and all that."

Kenshin lifted his head and stared dully at him. "Why?"

"You made a decision, Kenshin. It's done. But I'm not going to let you wallow in guilt or get lost in the past. I'm not going to let this decision of yours be a mistake." Sano shook his head. "More importantly, I'm not going to let you turn into one of those blood-mad hitokiri everyone was afraid of during the Bakumatsu. You're not going to be another Jin-e. Or a Toma with a Jinpu squad following you around."

Sano saw the shift in Kenshin's posture and the sudden darting of his eyes toward the gate. _Damnit, whoever you are, you've got some terrible timing_, he thought. _Better finish this up_. "Kenshin," he hissed under his breath. "You decided to kill again? Fine. I'll deal with it. But you're going to be Kenshin, all the same. Got it?"

He nodded, relaxing a bit. "This one could have used you in Kyoto, Sano."

"Ken-san!" came the voice from the gate. "I've missed you. You never come by the clinic anymore."

They turned their attention to Megumi, who despite the cheerful greeting looked considerably worn around the edges. Her fingers clutched a newspaper to her chest, revealing smudges of long-dried blood on the edges of her kimono sleeves.

Kenshin stood to greet her, leaving his sword on the deck where he'd been sitting. "Megumi-dono," he nodded. "Is everything well at the clinic? You needed Sano's help yesterday, and Yahiko's. This one was worried, he was."

"I actually came by to thank them for their help. These days, the clinic fills so suddenly with the injured we could use them full time."

Sano shrugged, motioning for them both to sit. "Any time, Megumi. I still owe you for the hand, anyway. Figure clinic duty's the only way I can repay that."

"Am I hearing right?" Kaoru asked, coming to the doorway. "Is Sano agreeing to repay someone? The world is ending."

He scowled at the laughter that broke out among them. "Hey that isn't very nice, Jou-chan. I help out a lot around here."

"Oh really?" Kaoru folded her arms over her chest. "And just what do you do to help?"

Kenshin smiled. "Sano helps eat the food, he does."

"Hey, whose side are you on, anyway?" Sano gave him a playful shove against the wall, keeping his relief at the teasing well hidden. "Stop picking on me!"

"I really do appreciate the help, Sanosuke. And Yahiko's," Megumi said. "Where _is _Yahiko?"

Kaoru rolled her eyes. "I gave him 500 more strokes for name-calling." She stepped from the doorway and sat beside Kenshin. "It serves him right. He needs to learn respect for his assistant master."

"I see. I'm glad he's well." Megumi grew more serious and spread out the newspaper on the deck where they could all see it. "I _did_ come here to say thank you, but also to make sure you were all well. I don't know if you got a paper today. They were out so fast I didn't get a chance to buy one myself. A clinic patient left this."

Sano saw Kenshin tense up slightly, but didn't see any way around the conversation. _Sorry, Kenshin. You'll just have to sit through this one_. He hoped Megumi wouldn't get too specific, and that Kenshin was feeling up to some misdirection. Sano was almost glad he'd not managed to bring a paper to the dojo himself.

"There was a murder last night, it made the headlines," Megumi said in a hushed voice. "In the Zen'yoji Temple, of all places. Two of them were cleanly beheaded, but the rest were slashed to ribbons." She stared at Kenshin, her eyebrows knitted together with concern. "Ken-san, the way these are described, the sheer brutality of the killer, I'm worried. This is the sort of murder I remember hearing about during the Bakumatsu. What if it's another one of the old hitokiri, like that Jin-e I heard about? What if he comes after you?"

Kenshin was silent, staring at the headline _Tokyo Slasher Kills Eight_. His hands were balled into fists in his lap, his face carefully blank.

"Megumi, don't you think you're overreacting?" Sano asked, trying to steer her attention away from the redhead. "I mean, Tokyo's a big place. People are killed all the time."

"No, Sanosuke. Eight armed men were murdered on holy ground and their corpses left to bleed into the sand. Some of them were in pieces," she emphasized. "Cut apart like animals. Read it, it's horrific what they describe here. This isn't something you read about and forget. This is the kind of insane killer who goes after Ken-san! It's happened before, you can't deny it."

_In pieces? What the hell did you do last night, Kenshin?_ "Still, these guys don't come after Kenshin without issuing a challenge first," he said. _Got to get her to drop it_, he thought. _Kenshin looks tense enough to pull a muscle_. "Anyway, I heard from Katsu that they were yakuza. Probably for the best they died."

Megumi leveled a disapproving glare at him. "The monks will be cleaning that stone garden for weeks." She tapped a finger on the paper. "Read it," she said again. "Some of the victims were thrown clear across the garden by the force of their killer's attack. The bodies were all over the place. There was a head in the gazebo, Sano!"

"Hey, cool it!" he yelled back at her. "Look at Jou-chan, Megumi. She doesn't need to be hearing all this." True, Kaoru did look pretty pale, but she could handle it. Sano was a bit more worried over Kenshin, whose breathing was definitely strained, and who looked about three seconds from reliving his past. Sano noticed the distant look in his eyes like the one he'd seen last night. _Maybe he's already seeing it again_, he thought. _Good thing Megumi'__s too focused on Jou-chan to notice_.

Megumi sat back, quickly folding the paper out of Kaoru's sight. "I'm sorry. Maybe you should lie down, Kaoru. I can get you some water, perhaps."

She shook her head at Megumi's suggestion, regaining some color. "No, I'm fine," she replied faintly. "Just a little upset at the details. I've never…" Kaoru took a deep breath. "I've never really heard details like that before."

"I'm sure the police will do something about the killer, Kaoru. As long as he doesn't go after Ken-san, Sanosuke's right. We have nothing to worry about."

While Megumi expressed her concern for Kaoru, Sano took the opportunity to see how Kenshin was holding up. The man was still shaking slightly, and had yet to look up from the area of the porch where Megumi's newspaper had been resting. _He couldn't have remained a shadow hitokiri long if he reacted to talk of his work like this in Kyoto_, Sano thought. _But maybe it's better that it affects him like this. I'd worry if he was nonchalant about it._

Sano blinked as Kenshin shifted his heavily blue-flecked eyes to the gate. _More company? It's a busy day at the dojo_, he thought, turning to see one of the men he most disliked stalk into the yard. _And of course, it has to be him_.

"Excuse me," Saitou said as he stopped short at the steps. "I'd have sent a messenger, but I hear messengers are no longer welcome at the Kamiya dojo." He glanced pointedly at Kaoru before turning his attention solely on Kenshin.

"What is it you want, Saitou?" Sano demanded. "We're probably not interested."

The man ignored him entirely, addressing Kenshin as though Sano hadn't spoken. "Battousai. After last night's … incident …"

"You're not taking him!" Megumi yelled. "You can deal with that killer on your own, without Ken-san's help. He isn't going to be a killer for you."

Saitou spared her an irritated glance, and continued. "The police department is recruiting draftees early. You'll be working under me as of tomorrow." He tossed a thick packet of parchment in Kenshin's lap and dug a cigarette out of his pocket.

Kenshin lifted the blank sheet on top of the packet to glance at the contents before replacing the cover with a scowl. "Tomorrow's a little early, don't you think?"

He shrugged, not answering the question further. "I tried to convince them otherwise, but my colleagues have decided that the moron here," he jerked a thumb in Sano's direction, "would be a useful member as well."

"Hey! Who're you calling a--"

"I can't possibly allow my only helpers in the clinic to be drafted, Saitou," Megumi smoothly interrupted. "Ken-san and Sanosuke are the only reason more people haven't died from their injuries lately."

"Tch. I'll grant you the rooster may be of some small assistance carrying pails of water and fixing leaky roofs, but the Battousai hasn't been seen at your clinic since his last stitches were removed more than a month ago." Saitou returned his gaze to Kenshin again. "I'd start reading that early, Battousai. Some of it's _complicated_."

Kenshin gave a sharp nod. "It'll be read," he bit out around his scowl.

"What is all that, anyway?" Kaoru asked, her eyes drawn to the papers. "Why does he have to read it tonight? You said he doesn't start until tomorrow."

Megumi answered before Saitou got a chance. "It's probably information about the Slasher, Kaoru. They must want Ken-san to help them catch him." She glared at Saitou. "You had better take care of him. People like this psychotic murderer always end up coming after Ken-san. It's only a matter of time."

Saitou's lips quirked into an amused smirk. "I hardly think the Battousai needs protection in this case."

Kenshin stood, picking up his sakabatou and holding the papers close. "Sano, you were right. This one is actually a bit tired, and will try to sleep after all." He nodded to Megumi and Kaoru and turned to go inside.

"Don't sleep too late, Battousai," Saitou muttered at his back. "There's a lot of reading there."

Kenshin didn't stop walking, but responded over his shoulder. "Hai."

Sano watched him go, sensing another late night around the corner. "What are those papers, really, Saitou?"

"Just a detailed list of policies and procedures that come with the police work. No one ever accused the Battousai of doing a job with anything less than complete thoroughness, after all." He tipped his hat to them. "I'll relay your new career as a medical assistant, moron." Saitou left the dojo, a newfound spring in his step.

"Well," Megumi sighed. "Better with the police than with the army. I guess I'll be seeing you in the clinic every day now, won't I, Sanosuke?" she said with a laugh. "Off one hook and onto another!"

He stared. "Uh, yeah. I guess. Anything's better than working with that bastard all day." _And apparently_, he thought, glaring at the wolf, _Saitou can't agree more_.

"Poor Ken-san," she murmured with a nod. "He really should have come to visit the clinic more often." Megumi got to her feet and gathered up her newspaper. "I need to be getting back, actually. There are some appointments this evening I need to prepare for."

When he was reasonably sure Megumi was out of earshot, Sano caught Kaoru's eyes. "Jou-chan. You want Kenshin to make it through this, right?"

She nodded.

"Then I need your help with something."


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, the setting, the time period, or even the plot that has gone before. Also, I have no money. It will be a pointless effort in malicious spite to sue me over this piece of _fan fiction_.

Note: I apologize for the amount of gore in this chapter. If anything, it is a sign that this story fits the new M rating better than the old T rating. The graphic parts seem to be clumped in the middle, if you care to avoid them.

* * *

Chapter 12

Kenshin read the paper again. Only one name this time, and an address. But the packet Saitou had thrown at him earlier had contained, in addition to a set of guidelines for Tokyo police, more background information than he'd ever imagined could accompany an assignment. Fujimori Kazaki, a politician of mid to high ranking, was well known among the restaurateurs in Tokyo for his lavish tips.

Less known, Kenshin suspected, for his role in the recent deaths of several police officers. According Saitou's slavishly precise notes, Fujimori was in the habit of delivering schedules of the police rounds to his friends in low places. For years, this inside knowledge had facilitated yakuza activity and helped smugglers avoid detection. Lately, it was being used to ambush and murder officers away from their squads.

Of course, Saitou's attention to detail didn't stop with the listing of crimes. Fujimori had a donated a large sum of money to rebuilding the docks after last season's storms. He had a new wife, though no child yet. Even his income and government stipend were denoted in the margins along with a snide remark about how the widow would be well cared for. Had Saitou been nearby, Kenshin might have been tempted to pick a fight with the bastard over that comment.

Still, he couldn't argue with the map of the Fujimori compound, carefully sketched down to the last shrub. _That _had been folded many times over and slipped with the strip of parchment bearing the target's name and address into the envelope that hid under the first page of Saitou's little gift. It was the kind of scouting that would have taken him a full day of work in Kyoto, and as irritating as it was that Saitou had hidden that envelope where the others might have seen it, Kenshin did appreciate the effort to make his job easier.

_And more palatable_, he thought. _If my schedule were to be leaked, or these assignments, it would put the others in danger. Better that this Fujimori is out of the way before that becomes a problem_. Still, to be spending a second night at this so soon after the first was a bit disheartening. Kenshin had hoped he'd be given some time to recover between assignments. If the government bombarded him with targets, it would only be a matter of time before the habits of Kyoto became truly habitual again.

Already, it had been far less stressful to don the Choshu colors. The daisho at his side felt more real than the sakabatou he left in his room. And he'd slipped from the dojo using the same techniques he'd used during Bakumatsu to leave the Kohagi Inn unnoticed. _It's too similar_, he thought. _Everything. The clothes, the weapons, the time of day. Even the envelopes. It's all going to run together eventually, no matter what Sano thinks he'll do to help_.

He slipped the paper back into his sleeve and leapt from his perch in one of the taller trees surrounding Fujimori's housing compound. The guards were changing around the house, and this was his best chance of entering without causing alarm. Kenshin had contemplated the possibility of luring the man outside, of killing him without harming his guards or family. He'd even tried using rocks to distract the guards from their posts to investigate, but that had only made them more alert.

Kenshin jumped the wall and immediately hunkered down behind a small juniper bush. Whoever had drawn the map had been truly accurate. Even the koi pond was exactly where it should be. He shifted a branch to get a better view of the backlit shoji his map had labeled as the master bedroom. There simply had to be a way to do this without causing the wife any undo stress. _Or at least, any stress I can avoid. She'll be upset by her husband's death, no matter how I handle this_.

The sliding of shoji on wood brought his attention to his right, where a small boy carrying a man's bathing robe shuffled across the yard to the bathhouse. Kenshin's eyes narrowed, glinting blue in the moon's pale light. _I might yet catch the man unawares_, he thought. The boy disappeared into the bathhouse and reappeared a moment later with a bucket. A short wait later, the boy lugged a full bucket back down the same path.

_Right_. Kenshin counted the minutes as the boy made another round trip. If he could time it just so, the boy would be at the well while the guards passed by the front and back gates, leaving Kenshin the opportunity to slip into the bathhouse unseen. _Of course, if she decides to bathe with him…_ Kenshin felt his face grow hot, and knew he was beginning to match his hair. _Then you'll just have to suffer through it, you will. And hope they don't see you_. Kenshin closed his eyes and sent up a quick prayer to the spirits that Fujimori be the sort of man who bathed alone.

The timing was very nearly perfect on the boy's seventh trip, and Kenshin ran for the bathhouse, trusting to speed and dark clothing to keep him hidden from the last guard to round the corner. Once behind the bathhouse, he stopped, tensed to run again if an alarm was raised. Instead, the boy's footsteps on the path were all the noise to be heard. Kenshin waited for him to empty the bucket, and hurriedly crept to the other side when the boy came around to light the bath fire. In a few moments, he was off to the well again, and Kenshin slinked behind the boy and into the building.

The bathhouse was much larger than the one in the dojo, though not as large as the ones he'd used in Kyoto's inns. Fujimori's robes were laid out on a small side table, and an abundance of towels lined the cabinets to either side. The wash area had been prepared with rough rags and buckets of water, but a quick glance at the soaking tub revealed that Kenshin might have a while to wait for his target.

He shrugged, silently positioning himself low to the ground behind the raised soaking tub. He'd waited in less comfortable places before, and if the layout of a single set of bathing equipment was any indication, the gods had heard his plea. He concentrated on masking his ki and listened to the boy's approaching footsteps. There was, he realized uneasily, a very good chance that the serving boy would be attending Fujimori throughout the bathing process. He felt no more capable of murdering the man in front of a small child than he did of killing him in his marriage bed.

_I'd have done it in Kyoto_, he thought. _No hesitation. I'd have been home now_. There would have been dreams, but he'd come to accept those as his well-earned punishment early on. He imagined his shishou stalking straight through the gates, calling the man out, and striking him down right in the yard, but shook his head. _No. Shishou's brazen, but not that callous. Not quite_. Saitou would have probably invited himself in for tea and left the body bleeding into the tatami. It was his style. _And me? I'm skulking in a bathhouse._

Kenshin bit back a self-deprecating sigh, and returned his attention to containing his ki. The boy now led Fujimori into the building, and Kenshin tensed, hoping he'd chosen his position wisely. After several minutes of furious scrubbing, his target allowed the boy to ladle rinse water over him. The floorboards creaked a bit as the man moved to the soaking tub and climbed into the water.

"Go and bring me some tea, Idomu-chan." Fujimori settled back in the water, bracing himself upright with his arms over the edge of the tub.

Kenshin flinched back as a bare arm flopped down where his head had been. Neither of the rightful occupants seemed to have noticed his movements, or the slight chinking of his daisho.

"The water will have to boil, Fujimori-sama," the boy replied, his voice soft and properly subservient. Kenshin remembered having such a voice at one time. That had been well before his shishou had found him.

A small wave splashed onto Kenshin's shoulder as Fujimori shifted in the tub. "That's fine. But I'll have the tea, boy."

"Hai." Light footsteps retreated from the room.

Kenshin extended his ki sense to determine whether any of the guards or other servants were nearby. Boiling water for tea and then steeping the leaves would take some time, and no one seemed to be close enough to hear even a murmur from the room. This then, was the window of opportunity.

He reached an arm out for one of the smaller towels on the table, keeping his motions smooth and slow. No one was terribly close to the bathhouse, but a yell would bring over a dozen armed men to Fujimori's aid. Kenshin couldn't afford to leave any witnesses alive, and he didn't want to have to kill that many people. This assignment would be most successfully completed if he finished his target and left without any additional bloodshed.

Towel in hand, Kenshin sprang from his crouch and slammed his towel over Fujimori's mouth, making sure to pinch his nostrils together with his thumb and index finger as he wrapped the man's head in a lock against his chest. He could feel his victim's attempts to scream vibrating through his hand, but his hold kept the jaw clamped shut and cut off enough air to prevent even muffled cries for help.

"Fujimori-san," he whispered over the man's struggles. "You have caused the deaths of many police officers and quickened the destruction of Japan by aiding the yakuza."

Where before the man had attempted to batter at Kenshin's grip, now he swung his arms wildly, knocking at Kenshin's head and the sides of the wash tub. Slapping the man's hands away, Kenshin found himself rapidly getting soaked with bathwater, and decided to leave off a detailed description of the man's crimes.

"Tenchu or Aku Soku Zan. Take your pick," he muttered into the man's ear. "You're a dead man."

Kenshin loosened his wakizashi with his free hand, and drew it across his target's throat, releasing the towel over Fujimori's face to tangle his fingers in the man's hair. He ignored the frantic splashing and spluttering gurgles and made another pass with the blade, pulling it back towards the spine while he pushed outward with his grip in the man's hair. From this angle, and without a swing to lend strength to the blow, it took a third saw across the neck to finally sever the bone with a muted snap.

Kenshin loosened his grip in the hair, and let the head slide into the reddening water with a splash. The severed neck spurted blood in crimson arches through the veins, the body held upright by arms braced outside the tub. Kenshin took a step back, and forced himself to stare at the streams of red, slowing from a throbbing fountain to a slow trickle as the heart finally ran out of blood to pump.

He reached for a new towel to clean his sword, but his trembling fingers couldn't grip it, and it fell to the floor to soak up pinkish bathwater. His second attempt was more successful and, despite his shaking hands, he managed to clean and sheath the wakizashi without cutting himself. Kenshin looked at the floor, covered in water flecked with sprays of blood. There was no denying his actions, or their result. The panic-stricken eyes of Fujimori Kazaki stared up at him through the still-rippling water.

Footsteps outside brought his attention to the time, and he blinked the tears back as he caught the breath he'd been holding. _I have to get out here. Guilt comes later_. Kenshin used his sheathed katana to knock out the wooden slats of the bathhouse's window, and swung himself up and through. From there, a sprint placed him under a cluster of sakura trees, and it was a simple matter to leap for the lower branches.

He achieved his perch as the shoji to the bathhouse opened, and waited the half dozen heartbeats until a shriek finally cleared the boy's lungs. _Idomu-chan_, he thought to the boy. _You should have grown to adulthood without such a sight. I am so sorry_. He felt heat from his left cheek and didn't bother to wipe the blood away.

Guards swarmed toward the bathhouse from posts across the compound, and Kenshin masked his ki again, pulling his shame, self-loathing, and satisfaction deep within himself. They'd make a careful search of the surrounding area, and he needed to be long gone by the time they started that. He considered the damage to his uniform. He'd need to wring the water from the fabric certainly, or risk leaving a trail of puddles. But there was remarkably little blood on the gi, and none on the hakama. Any puddles he left would not be red.

Pleased with his assessment, he stalked along the entwined branches to the outer fence of the compound, and made a brief check of the area on the other side. It seemed clear enough. He couldn't afford to wait and verify that, though, because the calls were already demanding a search for the killer. Kenshin loosened his katana in preparation for a possible confrontation and jumped from limb to fence, and then over. He took off running for an alley on the off chance that one of the guards had seen him while in the air, and turned back to watch for pursuit once he was deep enough in the shadows. Nothing.

_This passes for success, then_, he thought bitterly. _A young boy has been scarred for life, a young wife has been widowed within the year, and a corrupt politician is dead in his bath water. Congratulations, Battousai_, he spat at himself, using the name he'd always hated. Why hadn't he just slit the man's throat and left good enough alone? Fujimori would have been just as dead, and Idomu perhaps wouldn't have nightmares of the headless corpse variety.

"I truly am a monster," he muttered as he grabbed handfuls of his hakama and squeezed out the water. He moved on to the sleeves of his gi, having to wring the thicker fabric more tightly to get the job done. Likely, no one would think to examine the nearby rooftops for signs of a waterlogged hitokiri, but caution never hurt.

Satisfied that he'd gotten as much of the water out as he could, he made his way further into the alley and leapt for the roof. The air was colder above street level, and a slow chilling wind gave him an excuse to shiver. _Was that tenchu? Or Aku Soku Zan?_ he wondered. _Which is it, in the end?_ He couldn't imagine that heaven really intended for the judgment and suffering to be spread around to those near the wrongdoer. Tenchu seemed unlikely given the fear it inspired in civilians both then and now.

_But as for Aku Soku Zan…_ Was Fujimori truly evil, or just corrupt? He was too high ranking a politician to be arrested for the deaths of a handful of police, no matter how large that handful. Kenshin doubted the man could have been talked from his actions without some sort of threat involved, or at the very least more time than Kenshin had available. And the action of slaying evil didn't take into consideration the results of that slaughter on evil's close kin.

_In the end,_ he concluded, _it's murder. It really doesn't matter what I call it, though Saitou's creed is a better fit with the results_. Kenshin stopped suddenly and looked at the streets below. He had no idea where he was. He sorted through his impressions of the directions he'd taken over the rooftops, and his face pulled into a scowl. If he'd been in Kyoto, he'd be looking at what had been the Kohagi Inn. This, however, was Tokyo, and he was nowhere near the dojo that had been his intended destination.

"Kuso," he hissed, turning around and backtracking. He'd ended up in front of old Ishin Shishi safehouses when he'd let his mind wander during his recovery in Kyoto. But he'd never allowed his internal maps of Bakumatsu Kyoto to guide his steps in Tokyo before. This was a new low. A very worrisome new low.

"Battousai," drawled a voice from the street below him.

Kenshin stopped and glanced over the edge of the roof to see Saitou calmly cleaning his katana with a square of rice paper. A pair of corpses dressed in western business suits sprawled against the wall of the building Kenshin perched on. Their retainers were not so neatly arranged in death. Kenshin grunted a greeting, but otherwise did not reply.

"I'm surprised your eyes haven't turned," the wolf commented lightly, sheathing his sword. "The blood says you got the job done, though, and that's what matters."

"It's done," he affirmed, keeping his voice cold.

Saitou shrugged. "Be at headquarters early. It'll be hard enough to find a uniform to fit someone your size, and there's more to be done than that." He faded into the shadows, as adept at hiding as he ever was. Only his voice drifted up to the rooftops. "And put a bandage on that cheek, already."

Later, Kenshin was almost surprised when he reached the dojo without having to trace his path a second time. He glanced at his uniform, clinging to him damply, though not incredibly bloody. Perhaps he didn't look as terrifying as he felt. He blinked away the image of Fujimori's headless corpse. It wasn't so easy to block out the boy's screams. He dreaded reading about it in the morning.

"You don't look so bad tonight, Himura," Sano called, leaning against the dojo's gate with his arms crossed for warmth.

"_Kenshin_, Sano. Tonight... I... Tonight was..." he finally gave up, shaking his head and accepting the cloth for his cheek that Sano held out to him.

Sano pushed away from the wall and took a step forward to inspect him in the moonlight. "You know, I don't think Jou-chan will pass out when she sees you."

Kenshin's head shot up, his eyes wide. "Kaoru-dono… S-she shouldn't," he tried to take a step back, but Sano's firm grip on his arm kept him in place.

"She's waiting for Kenshin to get home." Sano glared at him. "So, you're Kenshin, right?"

He nodded.

"And you're home now. So get in here." Sano dragged him forward, still clutching his wrist. "I told you, Kenshin," he continued, the mock agitation in his voice strangely comforting. "None of that 'this one's unworthy' crap. No 'but you shouldn't have to see me' or any other bullshit. We're in this together. Got it?"

Despite himself, a small smile crept onto his face, and he nodded, though Sano couldn't have seen either sign of agreement. "Thank you, Sano. Though this one must insist that he regrets dragging his friends into this."

"That's fine, buddy. Regret it all you want. But don't you forget that you _did_ bring us along, and that we're not going anywhere no matter how hard you push."

"Hai."


	13. Chapter 13

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, the setting, the time period, or even the plot that has gone before. Also, I have no money. It will be a pointless effort in malicious spite to sue me over this piece of _fan fiction_.

Note: Well, this one should be safe to read after dark. Unless you have a fear of hats. If so, there's not much I can do to help you.

Also, I looked at the rating system again after some comments (thank you misaoshiru and Kuronoko Tsubame) and I guess maybe M is a bit too steep. I've brought it back down to T, but if that ever becomes too light a rating, _please _let me know.

* * *

Chapter 13

The silence was what woke him up. Usually by now Sano would be hearing his neighbors in the Ruffian Row preparing for work or arguing with their spouses. The last few nights, he'd either not tried to sleep or had been jerked out of sleep by Yahiko and Kaoru bickering in the hallway. This morning, however, the sun was shining through the wooden slats of the window in his room, and there wasn't a sound to be heard.

Sano blinked, letting the futon cover fall into his lap as he sat up. _Yahiko being asleep still, I can understand. The kid isn't much for mornings. And Jou-chan, too_, he thought. She'd had a late night staying up with him and worrying over Kenshin. _But Kenshin…_ Sano sniffed the air. Not even a faint whiff of breakfast. Something was wrong.

Alert now, he crawled out of the futon and walked across the hall to Kenshin's room. The shoji was open, and everything was as neat as usual. Sano frowned, picking up a folded bit of paper from the low table in one corner. A quick glance at the childish scrawl told him who had written it.

_Good morning, Sano._

_There are rice balls in the kitchen for breakfast. Please leave some for Kaoru-dono and Yahiko. This one is in town at the police station, and should be back at the dojo in time to make dinner._

Kenshin's signature was less legible than the rest of the note, which made Sano smile. It was hard to believe that the most feared hitokiri during the Bakumatsu had handwriting that closely resembled that of a nine-year-old.

"Well, at least nothing's wrong," he mumbled on his way to the kitchen. "'Please leave some for Kaoru-dono and Yahiko,'" he mimicked with a scoff. "As if I'd eat them all."

Sano surveyed the neatly stacked pyramid of rice balls, and took one off the top. He was beginning to wonder just when Kenshin slept, and how long the man could go without. Apparently, after doing a late night load of laundry and tossing and turning for a few hours, Kenshin thought nothing of making over a dozen rice balls before walking into town. _Not that I mind at the moment_, he thought, biting into a pickled plum hidden in the center of his rice ball. _But he's got to sleep sometime_.

He shrugged, and plopped four rice balls onto one of the large squares of paper sitting on the counter waiting to be wrapped around food. His mind brought up Saitou's point about Kenshin's legendary attention to detail. He liked that it extended to breakfast, but it worried him a bit that the same thoroughness might be enough to push Kenshin into reassuming his Battousai persona.

So far, he'd been able to drag Kenshin back into the Meiji by using his surname to get through to him. While Sano was glad he hadn't had to do that last night, he sort of regretted not being able to test whether the name was all it would take. _What if I get through to him, but can't get him to follow me back to the present? What if he sees me, and hears me, but doesn't _believe_ me?_

_Well, Jou-chan's helping too_, he thought. _Between the two of us, we should be able to keep him steady_. Sano finished wrapping his breakfast, and took another rice ball from the stack to eat on his way to the clinic. The note said to leave some, but it didn't say how many.

He paused at the door to the yard, and called back at the others. "Oi! Jou-chan and Yahiko! I'm off to the clinic, and Kenshin's in town. Rice balls're in the kitchen!"

_Actually_, he thought as he closed the gate behind himself, _it might not be as hard as I thought_. That first night had been rough, and Sano would be waiting at the dojo regardless from now on, but last night gave him some hope. Kenshin hadn't fought him much at all about trying to go it alone. He'd been sorry Sano and Kaoru were involved, but he'd accepted it as a fact that wouldn't go away.

_I wonder who he killed last night? There wasn't much blood involved, whoever the target was_. Sano shrugged, coming up on the clinic. No doubt he'd overhear something about it while in town. He slid the shoji aside and walked through the cluster of waiting patients to the room where Megumi did most of the doctoring.

"Reporting for duty, Ma'am," he drawled, setting his food on one of the side counters.

Megumi didn't look up from dabbing some powder on a young man's stitched up forearm. "You should have 'reported' hours ago, Sanosuke." She blew the excess powder away and gently wrapped the injury before smiling at her patient. "Don't get it wet, and don't scratch at it. Come back in a week, and I'll see how it's doing."

The man thanked her and ambled back to the waiting room to collect his sandals.

"How is Ken-san, Sanosuke?" she asked when they were alone. "Is he feeling better this morning than he was yesterday?"

"Uh," Sano fished around for a good answer while wondering how much Megumi had noticed while at the dojo. "Yeah, a little. He really hasn't been sleeping well, is all." It was truthful, at the very least. Megumi didn't need to know the whole story.

She frowned, and began rummaging through a drawer. "He must be worried over all the problems in town, and little wonder," she sighed. "Ken-san puts too much on his own shoulders. Here," Megumi said, handing him a little green triangle of medicine. "It will help him sleep. Half of this in water _right_ before bed."

"Got it, and thanks." Sano pocketed the packet and thought about ways to get Kenshin to agree to take the medicine.

"Now, before you're going to be of any use to me, you need to know where everything is," Megumi said, suddenly all business. "Today, you'll be organizing the supplies throughout the clinic. Everything's where it should be right now, but I haven't had time to straighten anything out and make it neat. If you don't see a label on something, ask me what it is and where it goes."

Sano nodded. It was going to be a longer day than he wanted, going through all those drawers and cabinets. Still, it beat working with the squinty-eyed cop. Most things did. He wondered how Kenshin was faring.

* * *

"I almost liked you better in pink, Battousai."

Kenshin continued rolling up the sleeves of this newest uniform and glared across the room towards where Saitou lounged in a chair with his feet on a desk. The smallest shirt they'd found was a good three inches too long in the sleeve, and the pants weren't much better. He took a deep, calming breath and considered the stack of clothing on the table before him. There would be a considerable amount of alteration tonight.

At least he would be allowed to wear his sakabatou with the police uniform. He already felt naked without the wide sleeves a gi, though the pants weren't too dissimilar from the monpei he'd worn while training with his shishou. The buttons were a nuisance he could learn to live with and the gloves were a bit awkward, but the shoes were entirely too constricting, and the hat…

"This one will not wear the hat, Saitou."

The man laughed darkly, swinging his feet to the floor. "Of course you won't. We're indoors." He stood up and motioned for Kenshin to follow him into the hallway. "Today is technically my day off, but it was worth rearranging my schedule just to see you struggle with those buttons."

Kenshin heard his teeth grinding together and forced himself to unclench his jaw and fists. _It will look bad to start a fight on the first day of the first legitimate job I've had in over a decade_, he told himself. _And I will not give him the satisfaction of it, either_. Saitou hadn't been born dealing with buttons, and Kenshin briefly entertained the mental picture of the wolf snarling at _his _first police shirt.

Reluctantly, he forced thoughts of the uniform out of his mind and concentrated on the room they were entering. It was messier than the dojo's storage building, with boxes stacked high against the walls and a maze of boxes in the middle of the room that had not yet been stacked. Piles of paper topped some of the boxes and Saitou picked one of them up on his way to the table in the room's center.

"This is the more recent file room, Battousai." He spread the papers out over the table without sparing Kenshin even a look. "You'll be spending quite a lot of time in here, I imagine."

Kenshin rolled his eyes. "This one's reputation for tidiness is what attracted police attention?" _If Saitou thinks I'll spend the next week rearranging these boxes into some semblance of order, he is sadly mistaken_.

"Tch. Close the door, Battousai. We need to talk about the Tokyo Slasher." He waited for Kenshin to comply, and then motioned the shorter man to the table. "Yamagata thinks you'll work better as a free agent instead of a bound hitokiri. He wants _two _wolves roaming the streets, Battousai."

Kenshin met his gaze and slowly nodded. "And the envelopes?"

Saitou smiled, and waved his arm to encompass the entire room. "Behold, your envelopes. I find my targets by listening to rumors, checking backgrounds, reading records. I make connections, pick out the source of the corruption, and then stalk and kill my prey." Saitou waited a moment for a response, and then turned his attention to the papers, giving his new partner some time to think.

If there had been a window in the room, Kenshin would have sworn a cold breeze had blown in. Saitou had described a single task that had been two separate tasks during the Bakumatsu. Katsura-san had gathered the information and determined the target. All Kenshin had to do was kill. He'd been comforted by his trust in Katsura-san's judgment. If his leader had said a man must die, then Kenshin had made it so, without considering the truth of the matter.

It was something Tomoe had called him on once or twice, before the Ikeda-ya incident, and something he'd since spent a long thirteen years pondering. It had been his downfall and his salvation. Kenshin had clung to sanity by separating the killer and the child, something made possible by his complete ignorance of the reasons behind each specific assignment. At the same time, he knew this separation had damaged him almost as much as the killing itself.

And now he was being told to do both Katsura-san's job and his old job. _It could be a good thing_, he thought. _It would be a change from the pattern I followed during the Bakumatsu, which would perhaps keep the old habits at bay_. He wouldn't be placing the decision making in the hands of fallible supervisors. _But at the same time…_ Many of his worst nightmares involved assignments where he'd been given freer rein. When he'd been left to determine exact times and locations, when the only information he'd been given was the name… Those were the assignments he'd lost himself in, that had sparked _enthusiasm_. In Kyoto, the element of the hunt had almost always inspired him to greater levels of violence, and Kenshin saw great potential here for rapid degeneration to a heartless killer. _Aku Soku Zan or otherwise_, he thought, _this could be trouble_.

Not yet ready to discuss those concerns with Saitou, he glanced at the papers on the table. Newspapers. Kenshin frowned. Apparently, there was a new column wholly devoted to the 'Tokyo Slasher.' Directly under the heading was a detailed description of Fujimori's death, followed by an equally vivid account of the six yakuza he'd seen Saitou cleaning up after. The words made his skin crawl, but he shoved the guilt back for the moment, having no desire to encounter Saitou's derision.

Kenshin continued reading. The writer was attributing the murders to a demonic element loose in the city, citing the speed required to kill nearly simultaneously in two different places and the extreme violence "bordering on sadism."

_Bordering on sadism? That's taking it a bit far_, he thought indignantly. _It was a quick death, even if it _was _messy. A sadist would have wanted him to suffer_. The last line of the column caught his attention, and he blinked in confusion.

"Saitou." The man looked up expectantly but didn't say anything. Kenshin continued. "Today's paper has a column about the murders." He poked a finger at the offending line, and read it aloud. "'Victims to date: 16.' Saitou, this one killed nine, he did."

"The Tokyo Slasher is a team effort, Battousai," he said. _"You've _finally come to your senses, and now _I've _got a partner. There are going to be murders. So, we use the newspapers to our advantage and they concoct a single murderer they can comfortably fear." Saitou took the sheet and filed it in a different stack. "Your style is distinctive. So is mine. It's good practice to let the public think up its own cover story for it. They'll believe what they want, and anything we feed them will only lead to more speculation."

Kenshin folded his arms across his chest in disapproval, the effect ruined by the awkwardness of his movements at not having the extra fabric of his gi. "And no one would believe that the Battousai is killing again, and in the company of the Wolf of Mibu."

"Exactly. A killer of _this_ caliber," he waved at the filed newspaper, "requires police of _our_ caliber. You and I are responsible for bringing in the Tokyo Slasher, Battousai. As long as we look convincing in our search, we have very little to worry about."

Saitou reached over to pull a sheet of paper off a nearby stack. "And we spend less time cleaning up our messes at night. I'm sure you've noticed by now how much nicer the work is when you've got a clean up man around the corner."

He scowled, Iizuka's face swimming to the front of his mind. "How would you know? The Shinsengumi never had clean up men, Saitou."

"Tch. We _were_ the clean up men. Now this," he said, holding the paper up so Kenshin could read it, "is our route for the day. Study it well."

Kenshin plucked the paper from Saitou's hands, not liking the idea of leaving the building in this… uniform. "If we are going to be catching the 'Tokyo Slasher,' shouldn't we be walking the streets closer to dark, when he's active?"

Saitou raised an eyebrow at his concern. "You pranced around Japan for over ten years wearing nothing but bright pink. Now you're upset about wearing pants in Tokyo?"

"There's nothing wrong with pink, Saitou." Kenshin ignored Saitou's snort of laughter. "And this one does not mind patrolling, that he doesn't. But if we're the only two men assigned to catch ourselves, shouldn't we at least pretend to be doing a better job of it? If only to prevent suspicion?"

"We patrol every day, like the other officers," Saitou said as he slapped his hat on his head and walked for the door. "And we stalk the shadows every night, hunting ourselves, as you put it. This gives us an excuse to be exhausted in the mornings, and there's no doubt in my mind that we'll _be _exhausted. The best cover for the truth is one that is very close to the truth."

He held out a second hat in one hand, and motioned for Kenshin to precede him outside. "You're forgetting your hat, Battousai."

Kenshin leveled a glare at the hat, and made no move to take it. He began listing points on his fingers. "It won't keep my head warm. It won't block the sun. It won't keep the rain off. It won't help conceal my identity. It won't keep my bangs out of my face, if _your _bangs are any example. The hat serves no purpose, Saitou."

"It's part of the uniform, and you'll wear it while on patrol." Saitou shoved the hat into Kenshin's hands and started walking. "We all have to wear it," he called over his shoulder. "It isn't like I thought it up just to needle you."

He stared down at the hat in his hands briefly before sulkily placing it on his head and catching up to Saitou. "This one hates you, Saitou," he muttered to the man at his side. "That he most certainly does."


	14. Chapter 14

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, the setting, the time period, or even the plot that has gone before. Also, I have no money. It will be a pointless effort in malicious spite to sue me over this piece of _fan fiction_.

Note: This chapter took a while. Many apologies for the wait. If it's any consolation, this is the longest one so far. I actually tried to upload it Saturday, but the site wouldn't let me. In fact, it won't let me upload anything today, either, so I'm trying to play a trick on it to get the chapter up.

Also, many thanks go to Kuronoko Tsubame for booting me out of a slump.

* * *

Chapter 14

Sano frowned at the open drawer before him, not sure he wanted to get involved in the tangle of handles and metal blades. So far today, he'd seen more packets of medicine in more colors than he'd thought existed, on top of instruments he recognized and those he hoped he would never see again. Despite his frequent visits of late, he'd signed himself up for this job without suspecting a clinic could be so complicated. _Then again_, he thought, _I spent most of my time here having my hand wrapped_.

He hesitantly reached into the drawer and gripped one of the nearest handles, pulling slowly to give himself plenty of time to drop it if he inadvertently tweaked a blade into slicing position. "It's no wonder no one ever uses this room," he muttered as he gingerly set the scalpel on the counter. "You'd cut a finger off just trying to grab for a pair of scissors." Sano took a deep breath and prepared to fish another instrument out of the drawer, but jerked his hand away at a commotion in the waiting room. _Don't want my hand in there during a distraction_.

Sano closed the drawer and walked toward the noise, hoping it wasn't the first wave of victims from an incident in town. He was relieved to find only a little boy with a gash in his arm and a hovering mother. Megumi had the boy propped against the wall, his arm stretched in front of him on a low table while she worked.

"Ah, Sanosuke," she said as he entered the room. "Chikashi-chan fell into a clump of thorns while chasing his sister around. Please hold his arm steady while I clean it."

He nodded to the anxious woman standing in the corner and moved to do as Megumi asked. The kid didn't look so bad, and he was clearly more afraid of Megumi than of the injury itself. He could sympathize. Megumi was gentle as far as doctors went, but she could only be so gentle when digging in a wound. _Or binding a hand. She was absolute murder on my knuckles_. Sano patted the whimpering boy on the head, shooting the kid his best comforting look.

"Pay attention, Sanosuke," Megumi murmured, not looking up from her work. "Someday it will be you cleaning a wound. I can't treat everyone at once, you know." She picked up a pair of wicked-looking metal chopsticks and grasped a splinter with the needle thin tips. A gentle tug removed the splinter and she set it in a small bowl at her side before returning her attention to the wound.

Sano took a deep breath and reassured himself that his own arm was fine. It was a different sensation to be the one fixing instead of the one being fixed. He hoped he wasn't the one cleaning wounds in the future, because just a glance at Megumi's precision work was enough to convince him he'd botch the job. _Megumi has to know that already_, he thought. _She'll want me to hand her things. Not actually do the doctoring. Surely_.

From here, Sano found he could make out the conversations going on in the waiting area. It was better than the quiet he'd endured in the back rooms, going over drawer after drawer and staring at cabinets. He kept an eye on Megumi's handiwork, but let his attention shift to the mutters of waiting sick people. So far their favorite topic seemed to be the draft. More than one of them "wouldn't stand for it" and quite a few others had plans for avoiding it. Sano was again reminded of how lucky he'd been that Megumi had vouched for him. Whatever the cop said about him being added to the police force, Sano was sure Saitou would have had him bumped to the army within the week.

"—Fujimori-san of all people! Why would anyone want to harm that man?"

Sano snapped his head up at that, bringing his full attention to the conversation. _Fujimori. Do they mean Fujimori Kazaki?_

"It wasn't even a clean slice. They say the Slasher _hacked_ his head off. Right there in the bath!"

Sano frowned. _Maybe that _was _Kenshin's assignment last night. But Kenshin wouldn't do something that…_ Sano let his frown deepen, trying to recall some of the rumors he'd heard around the campfire during his youth. Brutality had certainly been high up there on Battousai's list of trademarks. _I was hoping that translated to "efficiency" but if these guys are right, maybe brutality really meant brutality_. He tried to picture Kenshin sawing off a man's head, and came up blank, with a sinking feeling in his gut. _Newspapers only want a story_, he reassured himself. _And of course they'll have to make it even better than the temple scene. Guess I should just ask him.  
_

"Okay. That should be all of it."

Megumi's voice drifted into his thoughts, pulling him back to his surroundings. The little bowl was filled with splinters and some larger thorns, more than Sano would have imagined could be packed into a wound this size. She dipped a clean cloth into antiseptic and dabbed at the wound briefly before wrapping it. A few murmured instructions later, the boy was on his feet and being steered out of the room.

"Sanosuke, I hardly would have thought you the squeamish type," Megumi chuckled while cleaning the table for her next patient.

"Oh, um, yeah." Sano picked up the roll of bandages and followed her to the cabinets. "It's just the conversation outside was a bit distracting."

She set her supplies down and turned to look at him. "You have nothing to worry about concerning the draft, Sanosuke, and I know you don't keep up with politics enough to care much about Fujimori." Megumi paused, still searching his face for something. "Anyway, the police are hunting the killer, and I'm sure they will keep Ken-san safe. He _is_ one of their officers now, after all."

Sano shrugged, breaking the eye contact. "It's just, you know, everything's all messed up lately." He hoped she never realized the full extent of the mess. _Knowing her, she'd probably try to save Kenshin and end up messing with his head instead. That's the last thing we need_.

Megumi plucked the bandages from his hand and set them in the cabinet. "When is Ken-san coming home from the police station?"

He sighed, thankful for a question he could really answer. "His note said he'd be making dinner."

"A note? How early did he leave?"

Sano thought. He'd been up when the sun was shining, but the rice balls hadn't had a crust to them, so Kenshin couldn't have left that much earlier. "Probably around dawn. Why?"

She shook her head, frowning slightly. "That man. He can't solve everyone's problems, no matter how early he starts." She leaned around the shoji and waved the next person inside. "And he'll be back for dinner, you say?"

Sano nodded.

"Good afternoon Arata-san," she greeted the greying man who entered the room. "Is the medicine working out for you?" At his nod, she smiled, and handed him seven small triangular packets. "I'm glad. Take these as you have been, and please come see me if you start to get headaches."

Megumi watched the man leave before returning to her conversation with Sano. "Why don't you go back to the dojo to wait for Ken-san, Sanosuke?"

"Now?"

"Gensai-sensei will be by in a little while to handle the evening shift here, and I need to go run some errands. I assume you'll be arriving late regularly?" She put a hand over her mouth and laughed.

Sano shrugged. "Well, you know how I like to stay out at night," he said. _Though I have a different reason for it lately_, he thought. _Might as well let my reputation work for me here_.

"All that drinking isn't good for you, Sanosuke."

"It isn't just drinking," he protested. "We—"

"I'm sure whatever else you do all night is worse than the drinking. Still, I have errands to run, and I don't want you here unsupervised yet. Why don't we simply agree that you'll come in mid morning and leave later in the evening after helping Gensai-sensei?"

He almost insisted differently, still stuck on clearing his name, but thought it through and found it was probably the best schedule he could get. "Yeah, sure." Sano grinned at her. "So I guess I'll be leaving early today?"

She made a shooing gesture, and called in the next patient.

Not wanting to press his luck, Sano left through the waiting room, waving at Gensai-sensei as he passed the man on the street. _I can probably count on Kenshin not getting back from assignments until after dark. As long as I'm there before he is, I can afford to stay at the clinic later. And_, he thought with a grin, _I'll get to sleep later to make up for it. Can't beat that_.

* * *

Kenshin watched the crowd drift by on the streets, his noodles forgotten in their bowl behind him. This patrol had turned out to be something quite the opposite from what he'd expected. The police uniform, as silly as he knew it looked with the cuffs rolled up, had provided him invisibility without effort. In daytime Kyoto, he'd worn a large straw hat to hide his hair and had kept to the shadows at the edge of the street. Staying hidden at night came naturally after so much practice, but it had still been a conscious effort. Since he started wandering, he'd just gotten used to the stares, had learned to draw them away from the scar by wearing bright colors. It was almost lonely being ignored so studiously by everyone he passed in the street.

"If you aren't going to finish your meal, just say as much so we can leave."

Kenshin glanced back at Saitou and then at his half-eaten lunch. "Aa. We can leave." He set his coins down on the counter and snatched his hat before Saitou could accuse him of forgetting it. It had been a relief not to wear it during lunch, but that relief would evaporate if his partner made even one snide remark about it. He shoved the hat back on his head and bit back a sigh.

"Is this all there is to a patrol, Saitou?" he asked as they waded back into the streets. "Walking around being ignored by people?"

"I should think you'd enjoy the change of pace."

He shrugged, still not used to the tightness of the uniform across his shoulders. "It _is_ different. But this doesn't seem very useful, that it doesn't." He knew, logically, that these patrols ensured an even spread of policemen around the city so that someone would be close to any disturbance that occurred. _But still. This job is essentially walking around all day_.

Saitou motioned to the left, and Kenshin followed him across the street. He hadn't expected an answer from Saitou, and didn't press for one. He remembered seeing Shinsengumi patrols in Kyoto, always a pack of them, and always silent. _Except for laughing Okita. That one never looked quite like he belonged with the others_.

Kenshin ducked into an alley suddenly, his ears focused on a bit of dialogue. It was a man's voice, low and conspiratorial, but unaccompanied by malicious ki.

"…taken up a sword again."

"Oh, you old fool," came a woman's voice. "The _Battousai_? He's been defanged by that Kamiya girl. A complete wimp."

"Woman—"

"Don't you 'woman' me. The man doesn't even carry a cutting sword. Just that silly backwards thing."

Kenshin heard low laughter from nearby, and saw that Saitou had also made good use of the alley to eavesdrop. His eyes narrowed as the bickering couple moved on down the street and Saitou's shoulders continued to shake.

He shook his head, striding out of the alley without a backward glance. "You are making this job harder than it has to be, Saitou." _At least the public seems fooled by the rurouni act_, he thought, pointedly ignoring his partner's smirk. _I just hope that act will _keep_ deflecting rumors_.

They continued their circuit through Tokyo in a surprisingly companionable silence, each content to leave the other to his thoughts. Kenshin found his mind wandering to the dojo as he walked, wondering what Kaoru and Yahiko were doing, what they had eaten for lunch, what he would find in the kitchen when he returned. He knew he'd have to chop the wood eventually, since there was only a little over a cord left, and the new wood needed to dry before it could be used.

"Going to make another round on your own, Battousai?"

Kenshin stopped, and turned around to see Saitou smirking at him from the open door to the police station. Wordlessly, he stalked inside, whipping the hat off his head the moment he crossed the threshold. _What is _wrong_ with me today?_ he wondered as he walked to the record room. _That's four times I've just drifted off like that on these rounds_. Kenshin sighed. _At least I wasn't drifting into Kyoto_.

"Himura-san, Saitou-san," Chief Uramura greeted them as he stood, holding his own hat nervously in his hands. "You had left on your rounds before we could notify you, and you prove particularly difficult to locate on the streets. My apologies. You should have known right away."

"Should have known what," Saitou demanded, his previous amusement at Kenshin's daydreaming forgotten.

Kenshin stepped between the two men with a reassuring smile for the chief. "Chief, what has happened?"

Uramura glanced anxiously at Saitou before addressing the obviously less volatile Kenshin. "First, let me assure you that the attempt was a failure. Yamagata-sama is perfectly safe, and the security has been doubled."

A metallic chink sounded in the room, and Kenshin realized he'd clenched a fist around his sword hilt. Failure or not, an attack on Yamagata was a sign of a very confident enemy. He noticed the police chief stepping backward, his throat convulsing in a nervous swallow. Kenshin didn't blame the man. Saitou was radiating violent ki, and his own ki couldn't have been friendly or well-harnessed.

"The, um, the assailant was killed during the attempt this morning, and we are keeping it from the public." Uramura had edged around the table as he spoke, and now placed a hand on a new stack of papers. "This is all the information we have concerning the event. I trust that—"

"We'll take care of it," Saitou growled, releasing his own sword and stalking toward the table.

"Right. Then I'll leave you to it." Kenshin had never seen the chief move quite as fast as he did when leaving the record room, still wringing his hat in his hands.

Saitou tossed the top half of the stack at Kenshin and started flipping through the second half. Several minutes later, he spoke. "When I find out which guards were on duty," he started.

"Keep them," Kenshin muttered. "This one is more interested in the man who bought them off." He frowned at the last page of his pile. "And that looks to be one Amano Yoshimitsu, who cannot understand how one of his servants could attempt such a thing."

"He was Bakufu," Saitou said under his breath. "All my sources say he's unhappy with the way the Bakumatsu ended."

Kenshin set the page down for Saitou to read. "He's blaming one of his rivals, saying the man was lured away in order to cast suspicion on him."

"Do you believe his claim?" Saitou asked, looking up from the paper to catch Kenshin's response. "Neither do I. The man was rotten in Kyoto, and he's not changed much in eleven years except to match action with sentiment." He moved from the table, searching the scribbled labels on boxes until he found what he was looking for.

Saitou tugged a box out of the stack and moved to set it on the table in front of Kenshin. "This is what we've got on Amano Yoshimitsu and his many connections. Happy hunting, Battousai."

Two hours later, Saitou left to bring in a new lamp, which he set on the table instead of in the wall niche where the old one was slowly guttering out.

"Getting anywhere?"

Kenshin looked across the table at him, silent for a moment. "Is there a reason this room doesn't have any chairs, Saitou?"

Saitou's grin glowed in the lamplight. "Keeps the population down. No one wants to stand here for any stretch of time, so I'm guaranteed a quiet workspace. What do you have so far?"

"A cramp in my neck and a few more names. I'd also have a paper cut, but the gloves are proving useful."

"Shishio would have called them highly nutritious."

Kenshin rolled his head in a wide circle, trying to ignore the feeling of wrongness that accompanied playful banter with the Miburo. He'd known the man _had_ a sense of humor, but he'd always assumed the thing was shriveled from misuse. Certainly it was more a thing of insult than of play. _I hope I don't actually get to know Saitou while working here_, he thought. _It would be a disaster if he rubbed off on me_.

"Amano's been in contact recently with Mizuno Shinri and Noguchi Hiromi, the heads of two middling yakuza families. It seems as though the two families are cooperating." Kenshin sighed, digging his fingers into the back of his neck. "And this room really needs chairs."

"Hmm." Saitou flipped through a collection of papers he'd liberated from a box at his feet. "They're probably forming an alliance to be able to keep up with the competition. Try this." He pushed a page over to Kenshin's side of the table, but didn't wait for him to read it. "Ishihara Mikio has a house on the Ruffian Row. He meets weekly with rebels and yakuza alike."

Kenshin raised an eyebrow, looking at the dates listed on the page. "For over two months, Saitou. You've either got spies attending the meetings, or a great deal more restraint than this one had imagined."

"Tch. Your two yakuza bosses met there almost a full week ago. My source says there were plans to meet again soon."

"And by 'almost a full week ago,' you mean the next meeting is tomorrow night." Kenshin mentally verified his numbers, and nodded to himself. "How many men do the yakuza normally bring to these meetings?"

Saitou pushed a second page his way. "Just one. Ishihara is greatly trusted among his peers." At Kenshin's silence, he continued. "Well, Battousai?"

Kenshin tapped his fingers on the table, counting off potential attendees. "That's only five men, at first glance. But if they're planning a second assassination, there will be a hitokiri present."

"Two of them," Saitou interjected. "Mizuno and Noguchi may be cooperating, but it'll be shaky enough for them to want equal representation."

"Fine. A new total of seven. And Amano, if this meeting is the one taking place tomorrow."

Saitou smiled. "Count on him for another two bodyguards. He can't afford more than that for secrecy's sake, but he won't have less."

Kenshin continued tapping his fingers, using the movement to keep his thoughts steady. "That map of Fujimori's house. I'm assuming it came from one of these boxes?"

"Blueprints are filed right under the maps. Top left."

He nodded, going in search of the box. He'd visited Sano often enough to notice that the row houses were all built to match, but he'd not spent much time actually inside. For whatever reason, Sano had almost always met him at the door. Some digging rewarded him with a sketch that was clearly recognizable as a row house, though the external dimensions were slightly off from Sano's place.

Kenshin set the blueprint down on the table, and flipped absently through the papers in front of him. "Saitou." He waited for the man's attention before continuing. "Iwata Tadao and Shindo Izumi. Are they on the list of Yamagata-sama's guards?"

Saitou referenced the list. "Yes, but not on duty this morning. Not even in the area until noon."

"One of the maids complained about a fuss in the kitchen while she was serving breakfast. Their names came up." Kenshin handed his partner the paper. "Toward the bottom."

"Gotcha," Saitou whispered, his eyes narrowing into slits. "These two, and the two who agreed to trade posts."

"Tonight?"

Saitou nodded, a little smile playing on his lips. "Go home, Battousai. I'll take care of these four, you finish planning for tomorrow."

Kenshin shrugged, folding the sketch into fourths and hesitating before finally slipping it in a pocket. _Who would think to store something there?_ he thought. _In any real garment, it would fall straight through to the floor_. He left his hat on the table and made his way to the first room he'd spent time in today to gather his gi and hakama. A small part of his mind urged him to change before leaving the station, but the greater, exhausted part of him pushed the notion aside. It was enough to leave the hat behind.

The sun was setting when he finally got to the dojo and his feet, unused to the shoes they'd been trapped in all day, throbbed in time to his heart. _I should have changed_, he thought. _The shoes at least, if not the whole thing_. He took comfort in the thought that he'd eventually get used to the uniform. Saitou had, anyway.

"Kenshin, you're…" Kaoru's voice faded from perky greeting to confusion. She hid a giggle behind one hand. "Is that your uniform?"

He didn't believe her innocent act for one moment. _No, Kaoru-dono is a sweet young girl, but she is not going to let this pass_. Kenshin sighed, and resigned himself to an evening of ridicule. "Good evening, Kaoru-dono," he said, not feeling the –dono at the moment.

"Oh, just wait until the boys see you," she managed between peals of laughter. Kenshin bit back another sigh when her hands patted his hair. "Your hair is all droopy, Kenshin. Were you wearing a hat?"

"Let's not talk about the hat, okay Kaoru-dono?" He smiled at her, and reminded himself not to clench his fists. He'd gone without the rurouni act all day, and it was proving a touch difficult to get it back in place.

"Oi, Yahiko! You gotta see this!" Sano walked over with a huge grin. "Nice clothes, Kenshin. Looking a little too big on you, though. Where's the hat?"

Kenshin gritted his teeth, and returned the fighter's grin. "This one must have left it at the station, Sano. Why don't…" he cut himself off when he heard Yahiko's laughter from the porch. He'd been about to suggest dinner, always a successful distraction around the dojo. Now, he thought better of it.

"What, is the hat really that bad?" Sano tugged at his bangs. "You know, I really can't see you in a hat Kenshin. Not with bangs like yours."

"Can we _please_ not talk about the hat?"

"It _is_ that bad, then." Sano winked knowingly at him while Kaoru dissolved into a fit of giggles and Yahiko fell off the porch. "What's wrong with the hat, Kenshin?"

Kenshin felt an eye twitch, and plastered a smile on his face as he walked through the yard to his room, stepping over Yahiko, who was helplessly rolling on the ground. _Oh yes_, he thought. _Forget the shoes. If there is a single piece of this uniform that will drive me homicidal someday, it's the blasted hat_.


	15. Chapter 15

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, the setting, the time period, or even the plot that has gone before. Also, I have no money. It will be a pointless effort in malicious spite to sue me over this piece of _fan fiction_.

Note: I'm sorry. This one is a gore fest. I tried to tone it down, but… this particular chapter just has to be told this way. It may be disturbing, given recent events. You've been warned.

I also apologize for the anticipated delay before the next chapter comes out. Everything is coming due real soon, so I'll have little time to devote to "Revolution" for a while.

* * *

Chapter 15

Kenshin slid the lid back onto the box of records he'd been browsing. Without a window, he couldn't be sure, but his internal time sense indicated the sun dipping near the horizon or already below it. His official day shift was drawing to a close, and his specialized night shift beginning.

He wondered whether any of the men he now worked with had figured out the extent of his and Saitou's night shifts. A few of them had commiserated with him over lunch today, remarking on how the other night patrols didn't work daylight shifts. Kenshin had shrugged, then muttered something about the unfairness of life. That at least had seemed to satisfy them, and after a pat on the back, he'd been left to his lunch.

It was oddly similar to the treatment he'd received from the Ishin Shishi soldiers at the Kohagi Inn, before they'd realized just what his job really entailed. After that information had gotten out, no one would look him in the eye, and certainly no one had dared to touch him. He hoped for everyone's sake that secrecy about his position as hitokiri would last longer this time. Preferably until he could resign again. Or possibly even years after that.

The door behind him swung open, and Kenshin tensed until he recognized the ki of one of the men from lunch, Tashiro Etsuo, if he remembered correctly. He glanced down at the papers spread on the table to verify that they weren't incriminating, and then turned to greet the newcomer.

"Himura, you still here?" the man asked with a smile. "I'd have thought you'd be out on the streets by now. Sun'll be down in nearly an hour, after all."

"Aa, Tashiro-san." He patted the map pinned down on the table, leaving his hand where it fell. "This one was just noting some locations of interest. Saitou found some information that pointed to the docks, so this one thought he'd spend the night in that area."

Tashiro laughed, a reaction that Kenshin found strangely off-putting. "You should make Saitou watch the docks, then, and you go home. You're new, but you aren't an errand boy, Himura."

Kenshin nodded, considering ways of convincing his current company to leave without actually saying as much. "Saitou will be patrolling the streets. This one will be watching the docks." He narrowed his eyes, and projected a flash of suspicious ki at the man. "Why so interested in our movements, Tashiro-san?"

_Well _that _got the reaction I was after_, he thought with an internal smirk. Tashiro blanched and murmured that he was due home for dinner soon before ducking his head in a quick bow and practically running down the hall. _Maybe too much ki?_ He was a bit out of practice with ki projection, after all. Ki suppression, on the other hand, was a skill he kept sharp.

Kenshin removed the weights from the corners of the map and let the parchment roll back into a tube. There was no sense in leaving the map out, and a great deal of sense in putting it back exactly where he'd gotten it. If Tashiro came looking later, Kenshin couldn't afford for the man to see a detailed map of the Ruffian Row instead of the docks of Tokyo.

He mentally reviewed his facts as he left the station, leaving the hated hat behind. Mizuno Shinri and Noguchi Hiromi were meeting with Ishihara Mikio to discuss a business arrangement. He agreed with Saitou that it was likely this meeting would include plans for a second assassination attempt on Yamagata, which would place Amano Yoshimitsu in attendance. The Ishihara house had been vacant earlier in the day, and either Kenshin would find it so again tonight, or, if his suspicions proved correct, he would be putting his careful plans to good use.

Kenshin took stock of the folks wandering the darkening street around him, and meandered to a small, unlit shrine. While lonely, the invisibility the uniform granted was useful. Once under the arch, he began unbuttoning his uniform. "Saitou," he called softly. "You may want to have a word with Tashiro Etsuo."

A match sparked in the darkness. "He bothered you, too, then?" Saitou nudged the folded Choshu Shishi uniform with a foot and flicked his match into the sand in the incense box.

Catching the hint, Kenshin wasted no time in pulling the gi over the undershirt from his police uniform and exchanging pants for hakama. "You brought the daisho?"

"Your rooster friend's the moron, Battousai. Don't get us confused." He gestured toward the incense, and accepted the sakabatou with a sneer. "What makes you so sure I'll give this back?"

Kenshin threw a shoe at him, which Saitou caught with a scowl. "If this one has to draw a sword while on his rounds, you had better hope it's that sakabatou, Saitou. We're already going to look incompetent because we can't catch the Slasher. You want to start some real rumors, you let me draw a regular katana on some yakuza gunman."

"Tch. You want all this at the dojo, or is the station adequate?"

"I'd prefer the dojo, Saitou. You don't even have to say hello. Just throw it all over the wall." Kenshin tugged on the arm guards, wondering for the fourth time today why Saitou had agreed to do this. The man was normally loathe to be helpful, but Kenshin supposed he at least took this partnership seriously. He'd never really worked with a partner in Kyoto, and had never imagined himself working with one in Tokyo under similar circumstances. _Maybe I've been adopted into some twisted squad of the Shinsengumi that exists only in Saitou's head_, he thought wryly. _It would explain the teamwork_.

He slid the daisho through his obi and picked up the bundle of rags and rice paper he'd packed earlier. Aside from the undershirt, everything felt as it should. And it was dark enough to make his way in the shadows. Kenshin nodded to Saitou and headed for the other side of the shrine. _It's customary to only enter or exit a shrine through the arches, _he mused,_ but I suppose custom means very little to hitokiri_. "If it goes well, you won't know it," he called as he let the shadows swallow him. He thought he heard an amused snort from the darkness behind him, and smiled.

It was a matter of an hour to get into place, keeping to side streets and rooftops, and bridging the occasional gap using low hanging tree branches. The first of the three routes he'd plotted earlier had no holes or gaps in concealment, and Kenshin was pleased with his work. A glance from a nearby rooftop told him that he was in luck tonight, if the idea of luck involved completing a job. _It would be even luckier if no one was home_, he thought.

Kenshin brought up a mental image of the building plans he'd dug up and matched them to the row house in front of him. Not identical, but very close. Close enough for what he had in mind. He swung down from the rooftop, landing lightly in the two-foot wide alley between Ishihara's row house and his neighbor's. The walls here were solid wood, uninterrupted by shoji or window, and he had plans for this strip of land. It was long past the dinner hour, and he doubted the family next door would be in the kitchen to hear any scuffs through the wall. It was an ideal alleyway for hiding bodies.

He eased himself around the corner to the back of the row house and verified the location of shoji leading to two rooms on this side. Judging by the vague silhouettes in the main room, only one group of the anticipated three had arrived. Kenshin counted four figures, two sitting near the lamp, one off to the side, and the fourth moving cautiously around the room, obviously a bodyguard. He frowned, considering the third shadow. On those rare occasions he'd been dragged to a meeting, that was where he'd stayed. Out of sight, and able to survey the attendees for signs of violence. _Probably one of the hitokiri who are lined up for a second attempt on Yamagata-sama. So either Mizuno or Noguchi has arrived_.

Kenshin worked his way toward the second shoji, this one leading to a kitchen if his information was correct. There was no light on inside, and he felt reasonably sure he wouldn't have to worry about this room except for getting out when he was done. Satisfied, he returned to the roof to wait.

A carriage rattled up the street a short while later, and the driver opened the door to help a rotund man in western attire step to the ground. Five armed men piled out after him, three more than Kenshin had expected. The driver exchanged a few words with one of them regarding a return time before driving off. Kenshin shook his head at the disregard for stealth. _Really_, he thought. The man was in politics. To be seen frequenting a place like this, with people like this was something Kenshin thought a wise politician would want to avoid. He watched closely as the guards split up, two escorting their charge inside, and the other three taking up posts around the building.

The second yakuza arrived not long after, trailed by two men who didn't seem attached to the yakuza or well dressed enough to belong to Amano's retinue. He frowned, watching as one of the two men stayed to chat with the guards outside while the other went in. This complicated things slightly. It was only an addition of two, but two unknown elements added to the extra guards Amano had brought could be enough to cause problems. He'd come here planning to execute ten men, and now the number had increased by half. It did not make him happy.

In Kyoto, Katsura-san would have understood if he returned for support before tackling this assignment. The importance of keeping Choshu's shadow hitokiri a shadow trumped that of delivering tenchu. _But this is Tokyo_, he reminded himself, trying to stay grounded in the present. _This is the only time these three are meeting, and if I don't do this tonight, Yamagata-sama will have two hitokiri stalking him_. He decided to stay.

The second of the two strangers exited the building again, conferred with the other four guards, and arranged them strategically around the building. Kenshin watched their formation for a few minutes, familiarizing himself with the pattern they made. Four of the five stood stationary while the fifth circled the building. When that fifth guard had completed a round, he changed places with another, who then made a round. It was clever enough, he granted, though it would have worked better with more men.

When he was confident they were keeping to the pattern, he crept to the alley edge of the roof, and waited for the guard currently making rounds to get just beyond the back corner of the row house. He'd have to work quickly and time it right to avoid raising an alarm, but as long as they held the pattern, it was possible to take them all out. Kenshin tensed as the circling guard neared the corner. _Now_.

He launched himself onto the stationary guard below and planted a Ryūtsuisen squarely through the man's torso before guiding the corpse noiselessly to the ground. He leapt back to the roof and inched in the same clockwise direction as the mobile guard, waiting until the man just rounded the corner before striking down the guard below. The process continued a third time with little variation, and Kenshin rushed to dispatch both remaining guards in one spiraling stroke as they met between houses to exchange roles.

Kenshin straightened, sending his senses out to check for observers. The men inside appeared absorbed in their planning, and none of the neighbors had noticed anything suspicious. He let out a silent sigh, and sheathed his sword. These two of the five were hidden well enough already, but the others needed to be moved. Kenshin stalked around the row house, picking up his victims from behind and dragging them one by one around the house. This was the riskier part of the plan, where a stray glance from a passerby would destroy the secret of his job. Kenshin finished it as quickly as he could, and returned to the safety of the roof to consider his next move.

_I should not have taken that risk_, he thought, stretching his arms out in front of him. _Katsura-san will reprimand me when he finds out_. A quick mental count put ten men inside the house. When he'd planned this, at least three of those men were supposed to be outside, guarding the building. Seven, he thought he could probably kill before there was too much commotion for him to escape unseen. Ten was far outside of his limits, conveniently grouped or not. _Someone_ would manage a shout that would bring neighbors running, even if they all died in the end.

Kenshin jumped back to the ground at the rear of the house, and crouched by the main room's shoji. If he was going to salvage this job, he needed to hear some of what was going on. He found himself wishing he'd spent a little more time thinking before killing the guards. Even if he gathered information and left the rest of the job undone, whatever plans they'd made would be abandoned when they saw his handiwork. And they'd be much harder to track a second time.

Kenshin shook his head in mute frustration. _I'll just have to kill them quickly is all. And hope they don't put up too loud a fuss_. He let his vision drift slightly out of focus, picking up the shadowed silhouettes instead of looking for any sharp detail. He'd need some impression of the location of his victims in the room, or he couldn't guarantee that he'd be able to kill them all. The first thing he noticed was that the hitokiri from before had apparently joined the main discussion, likely clarifying their assignments. Through the shoji, Kenshin couldn't get an accurate judgment of their skills, but he figured they were going to be his main problem.

He wasn't crouching long before two of the silhouettes detached themselves from the main cluster and moved toward his position. He tensed, prepared to fight if he'd been noticed, but they sat down and began speaking softly about methods of entering Yamagata's office during the night. Kenshin's eyes narrowed, and he bit back a growl. Rising from his crouch, he assumed a low battoujutsu stance. If he could take these two out and then use the resulting surprise to his advantage, he could save a lot of time. _I probably won't get a better chance than this_, he thought. _They're close enough together that a single swing should…_

He spun, whipping the katana in a wide arc to slice through the shoji and the two hitokiri sitting against it and launching himself into the room with the force of his follow through. The four guards in the room jumped to stand between him and their charges, only to be cut down as they called for support from outside. Kenshin mentally thanked them for huddling together so conveniently, and partially gutted one of the yakuza, slashing the other's arm off with the shorter sword as the man ran for the exit, yelling for the police of all people.

_He must not make it outside_. Kenshin hurled his wakizashi at the fleeing yakuza, pinning him to the wall through his back. He glared at the thrashing yakuza boss at his feet and sent a finishing blow through his skull before taking note of the remaining two targets. Ishihara had retreated to the kitchen, but Amano had now taken up the cry for help and was shrieking about demons. Kenshin ignored the rebel for the moment, and silenced the yammering politician with a stroke through the neck.

He darted across the blood-soaked tatami to retrieve his wakizashi, letting the yakuza's corpse thump to the floor. _Only one left, and that one is hiding in the kitchen_. Kenshin flicked blood from the shorter sword and sheathed it. _No. Not hiding. There's fighting ki in there_, he realized. _Ready to defend something precious_. He swore under his breath. None of his information had mentioned a family, but it was far too late to change the course of tonight's events.

Kenshin stalked into the kitchen, katana ready, and was not surprised when an enraged Ishihara jumped from beside the door to attack him from the side. He held back a few inches, let the attack swing past him, and then cut up through his opponent's rib cage while the man's arms were still outstretched. Ishihara crashed back against the wall in a spray of blood, but then stumbled forward to attack again. Kenshin was unpleasantly reminded of a previous victim whose will to live had surpassed his ability with a sword.

Unlike that encounter, this one now featured a screaming woman. Kenshin dodged deeper into the kitchen and caught sight of a pale woman in her mid twenties huddled in the corner, clutching at her ears and crying. He was sorry to do this in her presence, but very glad her eyes were clamped shut. Kenshin intercepted the next blow with the softer flipped side of his katana, and then swung the sharp edge back around to take the rebel's head from his shoulders. He could already hear the neighbors approaching, and spared only enough time in leaving through the kitchen's shoji to murmur a thank you to the new widow for keeping her eyes closed.

Back on the roof, Kenshin unsheathed both his swords and cleaned them thoroughly with the rice paper he'd brought. It could be a while before things below calmed down enough to let him leave, and he didn't want the swords coming to any harm. They were technically loaners from Katsura-san, and as such demanded a greater level of care than anything he actually owned. Kenshin hoped his superior wouldn't be too hard on him for tonight. Absolutely nothing had gone according to plan. _Perhaps I can convince Katagai-san to change his report slightly_. Kenshin shook his head. _Unlikely, but worthwhile to bring up when he returns_.

The commotion below was only getting louder as more neighbors came to investigate and a clump of policemen ran up the street. Kenshin frowned at that sight, wondering briefly when the Shinsengumi had changed their uniforms before reminding himself that there were no Shinsengumi anymore. He studied the newcomers, quickly picking Saitou out of the mass of dark blue. The wolf glanced up at him, raising an eyebrow in irritation before ordering civilians out of the crime scene.

An hour later, no one had spotted him on the roof, but Kenshin was no closer to escaping the scene than he'd been before. It was only a matter of time before the sun rose or someone thought to look up at the moon. He had to get off the roof and out of the area, but people milled about in all directions, on edge and nervous, and almost certainly too observant for him to slip away unnoticed. _Another thing that's gone wrong tonight. Katsura-san will probably send a doctor to be sure I'm not getting sick._

He snapped his attention below as the Miburo made another appearance outside, shooting him an incredulous glance that Kenshin returned with a frustrated scowl of his own. The grounded cop issued a few orders, and soon had the civilians rounded up on one side of the building answering questions while he and a second officer reexamined the interior of the row house. Kenshin took advantage of the opportunity to cross the roof and jump down into the alleyway opposite the crowd. A few turns took him to a different set of row houses, and he slipped across the street and into the darkness of the trees.

Kenshin let out a grateful sigh and traced the remaining two of his routes from the row house while verifying that he wouldn't leave a blood trail. He'd completed his task, so there was no need to return to the shrine. This left only the third route, and he set it firmly in his mind as he edged around the trees and took to the rooftops again. The direction seemed wrong, and none of the turns led to the inn or even a Shishi safe house, but Kenshin reminded himself that he'd plotted the escape route with a purpose in mind, and even if he couldn't recall that purpose, he was better off following his plan. It would perhaps be the only thing tonight that happened as he'd planned it.


	16. Chapter 16

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, the setting, the time period, or even the plot that has gone before. Also, I have no money. It will be a pointless effort in malicious spite to sue me over this piece of _fan fiction_.

Note: Today my inbox got flooded with author alerts, and review alerts, and private messages... I got so excited, I spent time polishing this instead of writing papers. I'm sorry if it took me a while to respond to you.

I'm also sorry about the lag between chapters lately. I see a bit more time once these next few weeks are over and my projects are all turned in, but until then, more silence from this end. I'm _so_ sorry. I hope this chapter is enough to tide you over. It's long, if nothing else!

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Chapter 16

Sano sighed, wondering whether he'd be better off waiting on the porch with Kaoru. Certainly, he'd have been more comfortable, but they'd both agreed it was better for him to be the first person Kenshin encountered on his returns, since "Sano-san" was at least recognizable to him. And that meant his job for the night was to lean against the gate and keep an eye out for guilt-ridden hitokiri wandering the road late at night.

As dreary as this was, it was probably better than dealing with the influx of self-injured draftees Yahiko and Megumi had their hands full with at the clinic. Sano was sorry he hadn't been able to stay and help, but at least Yahiko was there. _People are idiots_, he thought. _If you want out of the draft so bad, just leave town. You're not doing anybody any favors hurting yourself._ Sano pushed away from the wall and paced a while, more to keep his legs moving than anything else.

According to Kaoru, Kenshin had tossed his police uniform and sakabato over the dojo wall about an hour after sunset without stopping to say so much as a hello. Sano would have some words with him about that. It was one thing to leave a note about breakfast and a late night, but coming by the dojo without a word was something else entirely. They'd been over this what seemed like every time they talked, and if Kenshin still wasn't getting it… Sano cracked his knuckles. _We're in this together, damn it. That means you don't sneak off, and you don't avoid us. What don't you _get_ about it, Kenshin?_

He wasn't entirely sure what to expect tonight when Kenshin got back. That first night had been a shock to all involved, but the next had been mild by any standards. It was a toss up as to what state the hitokiri would be in when he made it to the dojo tonight. _And he'd _better_ make it to the dojo_, Sano thought. While making the necessary changes to his uniforms last night Kenshin had told him about wandering the rooftops in search of the old Ishin Shishi headquarters, and Sano had been sorely tempted to smack him for real. Kenshin had been insistent that Kaoru not know, and Sano had agreed to keep it from her, but she had to find out eventually if she was going to help.

Even with the last assignment's lack of drama, Kenshin had been a bit off yesterday when he got back. Just a little, and only for a while when he first got home, but it was worrisome that he hadn't taken the teasing with his usual acceptance. When Sano added the confusion on the roofs over Tokyo and the distance on arriving back from the station, he ended up with a bad feeling. Especially when he considered Kenshin's little trick with the uniform earlier that evening. _For all I know, he hasn't been Kenshin since sunset_, he thought, frowning.

A few leaves shook loose from the trees as the wind blew, and Sano sighed again. It was getting colder as the seasons changed, and he briefly considered picking up some heavier clothing for these late nights. _Maybe something to wear under this jacket_, he thought. _I'll bet Tae knows someone who could get that. Or Kenshin seems pretty good with a needle_. Sano smiled at the incongruity of Kenshin hunched over his needlework with the sakabatou propped near to hand. _Some day, I'll have to ask him who taught him that. Couldn't have been Hiko_.

"Sano-san."

Sano yelped, jumping back from the voice before recognizing it. "Don't _do_ that, Kenshin!" He caught his breath and willed his heart to beat at a normal pace. _Bastard probably cut three years off my life jumping down like that… _Sano swallowed the lump in his throat and shot Kenshin a dirty look. _ Oh shit_, he thought, taking note of the blood trailing from his cheek and beginning to form a crust over the better part of his gi. _It's been a bad night, then_.

"My apologies, Sano-san." Kenshin jerked his head in a short bow and moved around him to push the gate open, his arm guard leaving a trace of red on the wood. "I did not mean to startle you."

"Wait, Himura," Sano called, grabbing at Kenshin's arm to keep him in place. He had to at least try to bring him back to Meiji before he saw Kaoru. They'd agreed to wait together, but the goal was for Kenshin to be Kenshin by the time he encountered her. For all their sakes. If Kenshin actually noticed her through whatever haze he was in, there was no way Sano could predict his reaction.

Kenshin stared coldly at the hand tangled in the sleeve of his gi, and his gaze followed the arm up to meet Sano's eyes. "It has been a long night."

Sano blinked at the emotionless voice and hard blue eyes. _Yeah, he's not in Meiji tonight, that's for sure_. Sano ignored the clammy feel of cooled blood seeping into the wrappings on his hand and seized the only conversational opening he saw. "Why'd you take so long getting back, Himura?"

"There were Shinsengumi," he muttered, pulling his arm from Sano's grasp and stalking into the yard.

Sano groaned and followed Kenshin inside, imagining a full out street brawl with Saitou. "Himura, please tell me you didn't attack him." He wasn't exactly sure about the long term effects of Kenshin attacking the cop, or worse, a group of policemen, but he was sure they would be bad.

A brief glimmer of confusion swam across Kenshin's eyes before the flatness returned. "The opportunity didn't present itself." He removed the daisho and leaned them against the well, oblivious to Sano motioning behind his back for Kaoru to stay on the porch. "Katsura-san is right about this traitor. The leader of the third squad shouldn't have recognized me. I must speak with Katagai-san."

"With…" Sano trailed off, watching bucket after bucket of bloody water run off Kenshin's clothes.

"Is he back from Choshu yet?" Kenshin asked between buckets.

_I have _got_ to find out more about the Choshu Shishi during Bakumatsu if I'm going to keep this up_, Sano realized. _'Himura' just isn't going to be enough_. "Um, no, not yet."

Kenshin grunted, untying his topknot and wringing it out. "Please inform me when he arrives, then," he said in that same clipped and dispassionate voice.

"So far everything you've mentioned can wait." _Why the hell aren't you even a little bit guilty, Kenshin? Your eyes aren't amber yet, so that's not it. What's different this time from that first one?_ Sano studied the smooth movements Kenshin made while filling the laundry bucket and swishing his hair through the water. _Not even a trace of unsteadiness. Did we lose you already?_

Kenshin flipped his wet hair to his back and let it drip down his already sopping gi. He seemed to be considering how much to say, but Sano found it hard to tell just what was going on behind those eyes. Finally, he turned from the well to look squarely at Sano, his face carefully expressionless, but something flickering deep in his eyes.

"As I said, there were… complications, Sano-san. Shinsengumi. More targets than I'd planned for. A woman. _Nothing _went right," he spat.

Sano felt his blood run cold as his mind raced. He hadn't asked Kenshin about his last assignment yet, and the reported brutality of Fujimori's death raced through his head. But a woman... _Kenshin wouldn't have hurt a woman. He _couldn't _have. Not Kenshin_. "You didn't…" he started, horrified at the possibilities running across his mind. Kenshin turned to stare into the well water before Sano could make out the trace of emotion he saw in Kenshin's eyes.

"She might have seen me. Katagai-san will have to have her dealt with." He tipped the bucket of bloody water to the ground and pulled up fresh one.

_Have her dealt with_, Sano repeated to himself, his relief at the information warring with his horror at Kenshin's callousness. _She's still alive, then. But... _Kenshin didn't seem to care one way or the other. Sano had no doubts about how such a possible witness would be "dealt with" during the Bakumatsu. Kenshin hadn't killed her, but he couldn't have expected her to live long. _He was young then_, Sano tried to reassure himself. _He couldn't have known what they'd do to a witness_. This effort didn't work, and the next thought settled darkly in his stomach. _So brutality meant brutality. Kami-sama. Kenshin _hacked _off that man'__s head._ Sano blinked away a mental image of his Captain's raggedly severed head on display. _He couldn't have had much choice in the method_, he argued back. _In close quarters like that, and with guards everywhere. Kenshin's not like them. Not like the others. He's sorry for what he does. What he's done. At least he never rejoiced in it_. Galvanized by his conclusion, Sano returned his attention to Kenshin.

Kenshin had paused with the bucket balanced on the edge of the well, absorbed in his own thoughts. He absently pressed his hand against his left cheek, leaving it there for a minute or two before pulling the hand away and staring at the blood. His shoulders dropped, releasing tension Sano hadn't even noticed. "It will never heal, Sano-san," he remarked softly, the curt, businesslike manner replaced by melancholy. "Iizuka said that to me a while ago, and I'm starting to think he's right." Kenshin turned his attention from his hand to look up at Sano despondently. "It bleeds every time."

Sano took a deep breath, glad to see a spark of remorse in Kenshin. _I know about Katsura, and I've heard the name Katagai before, but this one's new. Guess it couldn't hurt to ask_. "Who's Iizuka, Himura?" Sano didn't see Kenshin move, but suddenly, there was a hand pressed to his forehead and Kenshin was frowning up at him, all traces of vulnerability gone.

"You don't seem to have a fever," he muttered. "Perhaps you should stop staying up so late, Sano-san. You're too important to the Ishin Shishi to get sick worrying over the likes of a hitokiri."

He grabbed Kenshin's hand away and glared down at him. "I told you to cut the unworthy talk. Remember?" Sano watched for a sign of true recognition in Kenshin's eyes, and was frustrated but not terribly surprised that there wasn't any. _Looks like I ruined my chances with that question about Iizuka_, he thought. _As fascinating as this conversation's turning out to be, I've got to get him in Meiji soon_. "Himura. This is Tokyo." He paused, taken aback by the blank stare Kenshin leveled at him. _Oh, right. It would be Edo for him. Great._ Sano tried again, ever hopeful. "The Meiji era. The Bakumatsu's over."

Kenshin shook his head, sending dripping bangs lashing across his face. "There isn't enough sake in all of Kyoto to make that the truth, Sano-san. This will _never _end. We will die here, without ever having accomplished a thing." Kenshin laughed bitterly. "Three months, Sano-san. I thought this would be over. It's been nearly nine, now, and there's an envelope every night it seems." He sighed, his head tilted forward in what Sano recognized as an early version of the bang flip Kenshin regularly used to hide his emotions. "I'm glad you have some hope left, Sano-san," he continued quietly. "Maybe you'll live to see this _Meiji_ Katsura-san keeps talking about."

Sano heard a scuff from the porch and tensed up. Either Kenshin was too far gone in the past to see Kaoru, or he'd see only a strange woman who didn't belong in the yard of an Ishin Shishi inn. He was pretty certain Kenshin hadn't allowed many people to see him return from assignments in Kyoto, and if there was trouble, he would be hard pressed to handle it. _Kenshin's already beaten me twice, and trying not to really hurt me the whole time_, Sano thought, biting back on the prideful part of himself that wanted a rematch now that he had the Futai no Kiwami. _I'd probably lose any _physical _fight against the rurouni. And I'll lose a lot more than the fight if I'm up against the hitokiri. Kuso. I had hoped it wouldn't get to this point._

Kenshin didn't turn toward the noise, but spared her a glance before he began removing his arm guards. "I told you not to wait up for me, Tomoe," he muttered, reverting to the terser speech pattern. He pointedly began to rub the blood out of the material, his face blank again.

Sano blinked, not sure he'd heard right. _Tomoe?_ He looked at Kaoru, whose lips were parted in an aborted attempt to speak. She met his confused look with one her own, and mouthed the name back at him. He shrugged, glad he'd had that talk with Kaoru, and nearly numb with relief that Kenshin hadn't reacted violently. _I'm out of tricks_, he thought. _Maybe Jou-chan can do something_.

"Kenshin," Kaoru finally managed. "I'm not—"

Kenshin spun around, his eyes sparking with heat for once, and his voice tense and heavy with some unreadable emotion. "Nothing you own should smell of blood. Go back to the room. You do not need to see this."

Kaoru stood her ground, and folded her arms across her chest with a concerned frown. "I'm not Tomoe, I'm Kaoru. We met last year when you wandered into Tokyo."

The confusion Sano had noticed earlier with the Shinsengumi reference flickered across Kenshin's face, but was quickly replaced with the same gruff concern he'd shown when feeling Sano's forehead. "You met me in a bar when you got drunk. And then later in that back alley," he muttered brusquely. "When I sliced the ninja in two from head to groin."

Sano felt his eyes widen, and was pretty sure his own expression matched Kaoru's open-mouthed dismay. _Well he obviously didn't have Katagai deal with this Tomoe woman_, he thought. _That'__s a good sign. And she definitely saw him, it sounds like. Still, I hope you know what you're doing, Jou-chan_.

Kenshin sighed and shut his eyes at the shock on her face before continuing softly, almost tenderly. "You said I made it rain blood. You were right. If Okami-san wasn't even better at removing blood than I am..." Kenshin bit his lip and stared at his reflection in the bucket. "You should go," he muttered. "The men will talk."

Steeled by his shift back to the civility she was familiar with, Kaoru took a step forward and put her hand on Kenshin's shoulder, turning him to face her. His breathing hitched, but he didn't resist, and she grabbed his chin with her other hand. "My name is Kaoru," she said firmly, holding his eyes with her own. She waited for him to acknowledge the statement, but he simply stared back, completely bewildered by both her actions and her words.

"Kamiya Kaoru," she reiterated, not releasing her hold on Kenshin despite the sticky warmth of his bleeding left cheek. Her efforts went unrewarded, but she was relentless. "I am the assistant master of the Kamiya Kasshin school of swordsmanship. You live in my dojo. Here in Tokyo."

Kenshin shifted uneasily, obviously disoriented by the statement. He made an effort to disentangle himself from her grip as he opened his mouth to reply, but Kaoru grabbed his jaw harder and spoke over him, effectively cutting off anything he'd attempted to say.

"You call me Kaoru-dono," she said softly.

He flinched, looking strained and just a little bit desperate to escape. Breathing unsteadily, he moved his hands up to gently grasp each of her wrists, trying to push her away, but seeming afraid of hurting her despite his own distress. Kaoru took advantage of the loose grip to twist her hands free and resume her hold on his chin.

She caught his eyes and held them, encouraged by the uncertainty she saw in them. She repeated herself, putting as much feeling in it as she could. "It's _Kaoru-dono_."

Kenshin gasped, simultaneously pushing her away and staggering backwards with a pained groan. He clutched at his head and backed several jerky steps away from them, shaking and horrified. "Iie," he whispered hoarsely before sinking to his knees with a sob.

Sano stared, and took a step towards him. "Kenshin?" he asked hesitantly. He'd seen something like this in Mt Hiei, but watching the smiling kid crack had not prepared him to see it happen to Kenshin. _What exactly am I supposed to _do _now?_ he wondered, rooted in place. _Is this what he meant earlier, when he was talking about the Tenken?_

Kenshin shook his head with a low moan, fingers splayed, pressed vice-like against his scalp as if they would force the thoughts out of his mind. "So much blood," he breathed. He sucked in a breath. "So many faces..."

Undaunted, Kaoru went to his side and knelt down, ignoring the bloody water that crept up her kimono. "Kenshin," she murmured, trying ineffectually to pry his hands away from his temples.

He jerked back from her touch, his voice hollow as he continued. "Never again. Never again. This was supposed to be _over_." His left hand fell obsessively to his cheek, and he again stared through his tears at the blood smeared across his palm and fingers, appalled at the sight. "_What have I done?_"

Sano tried to answer him, but found a lump blocking the way. He cleared his throat. "This was how you chose to protect the Meiji era, and we're not going to let you go about it alone."

Kaoru nodded, taking his bloody hand in both of hers. "I don't like it that you're killing, Kenshin. It scares me that you're… that you're capable of it." She took a breath, glad he wasn't pulling away from her anymore. "But I need you. I'm more afraid of losing you than I am of what you do. So _I'm_ here to make sure _you're_ still here."

He met her eyes only briefly before looking down. "And not the _Battousai_," he whispered, self-loathing as evident in his voice as the blood on his clothing.

"Kenshin, I said your past didn't matter to me, and I meant it," she insisted, squeezing his hand. "I guess it isn't just your past anymore... but it still doesn't change anything." Kaoru stood up, bringing him with her by the hand she still clutched. "I want you to stay here, and I want you to be you. Himura Kenshin."

Kenshin swayed slightly as he blinked wearily at her, mouth agape and breathing still uneven.

_Okay, he's about to drop_, Sano thought. _We need to get him inside. This, at least, I know how to handle_. "Jou-chan, why don't you go set up his room, and we'll meet you there." Sano flashed her a thumbs up over Kenshin's head. When she'd smiled once more at Kenshin and turned to go inside, Sano dipped a rag in the water and held it out for Kenshin.

"You're a mess, buddy. Why don't you wash up a little before going inside?"

Kenshin transferred his dazed stare from the space Kaoru had left to the dripping rag in Sano's hand. After a moment, he accepted the rag and cleared the better part of the blood and tears from his face before wringing it out and rinsing it in the bucket he'd left propped on the edge of the well. He paused then, looking vaguely unsure of what he was going to do next.

Sano forced a smile and slid an arm around Kenshin's shoulder, leading him to the kitchen. He was glad when there was no protest, but the trancelike staring had him a bit worried. _I didn't think this would take so much out of him. He's about as easy to lead around as Jou-chan was that first night. __Or like he was right after the fight with Shishio_, he thought. _Only this time the blood's not his_. Sano glanced at the scar which glistened red. _Or mostly not his_.

"You know, Kenshin," he said as they entered the kitchen, "you're probably slipping into the past more because you aren't getting enough sleep to keep everything straight."

Kenshin looked up at him and blinked. "What?"

_That should have been an "oro,"_ Sano thought. _Oh well. I'll deal with that later. Onward_. "Megumi gave me some medicine to help you sleep. I want you to take it now." He held out the little packet of powder until Kenshin finally picked it out of his palm. "She said to take half of it before bed, and since Jou-chan's getting that ready, that means right now."

"But," Kenshin trailed off a little uncertainly.

Sano dipped some water out of the bucket on the side counter and poured it into a mug. "I'm serious, Kenshin. You said you'd trust us. You said you wouldn't push us away. I'm still looking out for you, and right now, you need a good night's sleep. You haven't slept more than two hours a night all week." He pushed the mug into Kenshin's free hand and glared at him. "Sleep's important, you know. Keeps you sane."

"_My_ sleep doesn't." Kenshin set the mug down on the counter.

With a growl, Sano grabbed the mug and shoved it back into Kenshin's hand, sloshing some of the water over the rim. "Megumi wouldn't trap you in nightmares, Kenshin. She's got a funny way of showing it, but she cares about you. You really think she'd want you spend a whole night reliving the murders you've committed? Seeing all the people you killed? What kind of rest would that be?"

Kenshin sighed, bowing his head as some of the complacency he'd demonstrated outside returned. "Fine. This one will take Megumi-dono's medicine tonight. And only tonight, Sano." He handed the mug back and slowly unfolded the packet, pinching the tiny square of paper closed near the middle to keep half of the powder in place as he poured the loose half into the water.

Sano watched with outright fascination as Kenshin carefully folded the paper back into its neat triangle around the remaining powder. He'd watched Megumi do it a dozen times or more at the clinic, but had never gotten the hang of it himself. Kenshin's folds were nearly as precise as the original ones. He'd never seen Kenshin express much interest in it before, but the man was obviously capable in the area if he was doing such a good job of it in his current mental haze. "Hey, where'd you learn to package medicine, Kenshin?"

Kenshin wordlessly exchanged the packet of medicine for the mug from Sano's hands and swirled the water around to disperse the powder, again using the kind of motions Sano had seen recently at the clinic. He didn't look up from the mug as he responded to the question. "I don't want to talk about that, Sano," he said in a low monotone. "Please do not ask again."

"Yeah, sure." Sano shrugged, his curiosity piqued but his common sense telling him to drop the subject. He already had enough new information to think about tonight. _Like the girl he met in Kyoto, Tomoe. Bet Jou-chan'll be real happy about that.__ And this Iizuka person. And just the whole conversation tonight. What's a little medical knowledge with all the other stuff going on?_

"You're really insisting on this?" Kenshin asked dully. At Sano's firm nod, he sighed and tossed the medicine back in two gulps, his face twisting at the taste. Kenshin stepped to the counter to wash the mug, ignoring Sano's irritation at the delay. He picked up the rag hanging from a hook in the wall and dipped it in the rinse water.

Sano fingered the expertly wrapped medicine and waited for Kenshin to finish. _Anyone else would leave the mug to be washed later_, he thought, _but of course Kenshin has to do it now. At least I got that medicine in him before he tried to start his laundry. With any luck he'll be tired enough to leave that off till tomorrow_.

Kenshin set the mug on the side counter and started to reach for the drying towel, but stopped mid-motion to clutch at the counter for support as he swayed slightly. He put one hand to his head with a little groan.

"You all right, Kenshin?" Sano started forward, catching an armful of blood-damp hitokiri as the man collapsed. He felt a moment of extreme panic before he thought to put a forefinger to Kenshin's neck to check for a pulse. _Normal, if a bit slow. And the breathing is shallow, but steady enough_. Sano whistled in disbelief and tried to steady his own racing heart for the second time that night. _That's some powerful stuff, Megumi. Right before bed, indeed, you little fox_.

Sano hoisted his burden into a better position for carrying and headed to Kenshin's room. "Guess this means I'll be getting you ready for bed, huh buddy?" Sano shook his head. _First laundry, then this. Who knows what I'll be doing next week?_

"What happened?" Kaoru gasped when Sano entered the room. "Is he—"

"He's fine. That medicine Megumi gave me acts fast."

"You _drugged _him?" She arched an eyebrow in disapproval.

Sano nodded. "The man needs sleep, Jou-chan. Real sleep, without nightmares." He saw the sleeping yukata folded near the futon and was glad Kaoru had thought to get it out. "Hey, if you'll go make some tea or something, I'll get him out of this bloody thing and into the yukata."

She nodded, moving to the door. "Then we need to talk, Sano."

"I couldn't agree more."


	17. Chapter 17

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, the setting, the time period, or even the plot that has gone before. Also, I have no money. It will be a pointless effort in malicious spite to sue me over this piece of _fan fiction_.

Notes: I thank you all for your abounding patience with me while I tackle the real life projects and whatnot. I'm about half done with them, so a bit more silence. This chapter isn't quite as long as the last one, but it's something at least. There are more notes at the bottom.

Also, there are some yawns in this chapter. If you're one of those people who catch the yawning bug from a written yawn, here's your warning that you might end up yawning yourself while reading. --Yawn--

* * *

Chapter 17

Sano pressed a finger against Kenshin's chin and turned his head so he could better bandage the scar on his left cheek. _Scar_, he scoffed. _It's more of a wound lately_. He sat back on his heels, studying his sleeping friend. "So it bleeds every time, huh, Kenshin? Is that guilt, or something else? What did this Iizuka person have to say about it? Did he tell you _why _it wouldn't stop bleeding?" _Probably not_, he thought. _Doesn't seem like any of them were brave enough to really talk to you. I__'__m surprised he said even that much. Must have been a friend._

Kenshin was still. So still that Sano found himself checking his pulse again, just to be sure he wasn't imagining the slight rise and fall of Kenshin's chest as he breathed. Megumi's medicine was frighteningly effective. He'd never seen anyone sleep this soundly, and especially not Kenshin. As thankful as Sano was to see Kenshin sleeping peacefully, he dreaded the thought of ever being dosed by her. Having his hand bound had been bad enough.

With a tired sigh, Sano got to his feet and collected Kenshin's gi and hakama, which thankfully dripped more water than blood at this point. After tonight, the last thing he wanted to do was spend quality time cleaning blood out of tatami mats. _Still, there's the yard I'll be cleaning up anyway_, he thought, _and the kitchen will need looking at_._ No telling how many smudges we left in there_. He made his way to deposit the uniform outside before meeting with Kaoru in the main room, noticing little splotches of red all along the way. It was amazing how little stains added up.

_Guess I'd better get used to stuff like this_. He had a lot of experience cleaning up minor messes from his days as a fighter for hire, but Kenshin seemed incapable of making minor messes. _Or of being slightly upset about something_. Sano dropped to the floor in a sprawl, too exhausted to waste the energy to sit gracefully.

Kaoru handed him a cup of tea before kneeling on a mat herself, careful to keep the bloody bottom portion of her kimono off of the tatami. At some point, she'd wiped her hands on the fabric, and two red smears crossed the sides of the kimono. "Sano…" she trailed off, looking into her own cup of tea.

When she didn't continue, he spoke to fill the silence. "Well he's sleeping now, at least. Real sleep." He took a sip of tea, blinking at the surprisingly mellow flavor. _That's right_, he thought. _She didn't have time to steep it as long as she usually does. It's not that bad, actually_.

"I'm," she paused, "I'm glad he isn't like that anymore. Cold, like that." Kaoru shivered. "And harsh. I've never really thought of my gentle Kenshin as a harsh man, but I guess he must have been at some point."

Sano nodded, drinking more tea. "Well that's one of the reasons we're doing this. Judging by tonight, he's changed a lot since the Bakumatsu. I'm fine with his past and all, Jou-chan, we've all got them and he's entitled to his. But I don't want him going back to it." He sighed. "Tonight was bad. Before you left the porch, he was talking about reporting to Katagai. Apparently things didn't go so well." Sano wondered how much of that Kaoru needed to know, and was glad when she spoke up before he had a chance to try to mislead her.

"I don't think he can keep doing this, Sano." She didn't look up from the pale green liquid in her cup. "It's hurting him, and not just these late nights in the yard. The rest of the time, too."

"At this point, I'd be surprised if he's really got a choice anymore. They've been after him for this since he set foot in Tokyo, and now he's finally agreed, they're going to let him walk?" Sano shook his head, clenching his fingers in the fabric of his pants. "No. I don't know how he got away from these government guys the first time, but he's in it deep now. Everyone's in it deep, with this draft."

Kaoru closed her eyes. "I know, I know, but… I just… I kept telling myself it would be okay, because we're going to be keeping him stable somehow, but I don't think we _are_. Not if he doesn't even know us when he gets back." She looked at him, her eyes glittering sadly. "Nothing went right tonight, Sano. This is just the third assignment, and it's falling apart already."

"He said that," Sano said softly. "That nothing had gone right. But something _did_ go right, Jou-chan." _Sorry buddy. She's got to know these things_. "He remembered the dojo, the way home. That's more than last time." He spoke over Kaoru's objection that she hadn't heard this. "He didn't want me to tell you. Probably didn't want you to worry about him. You know how Kenshin gets."

"Yes," she said, "I know how he gets. I know him right now. But I don't know him _then_, how he was _then_. And what if next time we can't get through to him? What if nothing works next time?" Kaoru clutched at the fabric of her kimono, pressing wrinkles into it with the force of her grip as her voice gradually grew more hysterical. "I know Kenshin, Sano. And I could see some Kenshin in the man who came home tonight. A lot of Kenshin, even. But I didn't recognize any Kenshin when he was fighting Saitou, and what if that's the man who comes home next time? What if he's more and more different each time he comes back, and then one night he doesn't come back at all?"

Sano set his tea down and let out a long breath. He'd have loved to calm her down with a nice explanation of why she didn't need to worry, but he didn't have an answer for her, especially not one she'd like to hear. In his limited experience with the amber-eyed Battousai, even being interrupted by someone actually from the Bakumatsu had only stopped the fight. What had stopped the _Battousai_ was a fist to the forehead. _I don't think I'd survive an attempt to bring Kenshin back that way. I probably wouldn't have lived through that little wrestling match, either, if he got it in his head I was an enemy_. He shook his head at the memory. "Whether you 'recognized some Kenshin in him' or not, that was pretty risky, what you did, Jou-chan. Grabbing him? I thought for a moment he'd try to skewer you."

She shook her head. "No. He was different, but not that different. I know he didn't want me there." Kaoru hesitated. "Didn't want _her_ there…" she corrected herself bitterly. "But he wouldn't have hurt me. I could feel it. He just wanted to protect me, to keep me at a distance." A sad smile crept across her face, and her eyes started to tear up in earnest. "Like always, Sano. When he's afraid I'll get hurt, and so he pushes me away. This Tomoe…" her voice broke over the name, "he must have really cared for her."

"Hey, you're not going to get all weepy now, are you?" Sano tried to keep his voice light while still allowing a little of his annoyance through. Kaoru was an oddly predictable girl sometimes, and he knew even the mention of another woman was enough set her off. But they didn't have time for this. _Got to lead her back to topics more important than Kenshin's prior love life_. "If Megumi can't lure him away from you, this Tomoe girl doesn't stand a chance." _Even if they apparently shared a room in that inn_, he finished mentally. _No way I'm bringing her attention to_ that _little detail_.

"B-b-but," she started, her bottom lip trembling.

"No." Sano shook his head and jabbed a finger in her direction. "_You're_ the one who brought him back tonight. He didn't recognize Tokyo, he thought I was sick when I told him it was the Meiji era, and he sure didn't remember the dojo or your sword style. It was _your name_, Jou-chan. _You_."

He caught and held her eyes, trying to ignore the many signs that pointed to an imminent crying spell. _The confident older brother approach worked on Kenshin that first night, and pretty much since then… it should work here too_. "You were damn impressive, Kaoru. You need to get that inner strength back pronto if we're going to keep this up. No more quivering because Kenshin had another woman before you were ten. She's not here now. _You_ are, and he needs you, even if he hides it."

Kaoru sucked in a deep breath and nodded, blinking half-formed tears from her eyes. "I _am_ here now," she parroted back at him. "And I'm… I'm not going to lose him," she said, gathering steam. "I won't," she swore.

"That's better." _Good_. This _is the girl he comes home to, _Sano thought._ The one who can bring him back no matter where he goes, or when. Now if she'd just _stay _this way…_

Her shoulders drooped slightly, and her voice held the same undercurrent of guilt he'd learned to notice in Kenshin's speech. "But I think I hurt him tonight, Sano." Kaoru looked towards the hallway leading to Kenshin's room. "I don't think it was a good idea to force him back like that. All at once."

He considered the statement. "Maybe not. I'm not sure how else to do it, though. Nothing I said was leading him back, and he just talked about sake when I told him outright. Like I was drunk or not right in the head." _Actually_, he thought, _there were those hints of confusion, with the Shinsengumi and then with Jou-chan. Maybe those were our openings and we just need to give them more time to work_. He opened his mouth to voice his thoughts, but she spoke before he had the chance.

"It was like he didn't _want _to remember, Sano. I could feel it. There'd be a little flash of recognition and he'd chase it away, like he was hiding from us." Kaoru sipped her tea with a worried grimace. "Why would he want to hide in the past? _His_ past? Why would he prefer the Bakumatsu to the Meiji?"

An uncomfortable thought settled in his mind, and Sano groaned, hoping he was wrong. "Maybe it's just what's familiar to him. Comfortable. I don't know that that's the case, man I hope not, but maybe to him it's just easier that way. Easier to do the killing in that mindset." _And probably easier to deal with it after_, he thought.

Kaoru shook her head. "The Bakumatsu is what makes up every nightmare of his that I've heard. How can it be comforting? It wouldn't give him those dreams if it was reassuring in any way."

"Maybe," Sano said as gently as he could, "the thought that the Bakumatsu never ended is easier for him than facing what he's doing now. Denial is a pretty powerful thing, Jou-chan. I think if I were him and I had a choice, I'd rather think of it as a nightmare than be forced to see that I wasn't sleeping."

"But this isn't the first time, Sano. Not if he got lost in Tokyo last time, and not if that first assignment was as bad as I remember." Kaoru put her tea down and absently set her hands in her lap, pulling them up again when they brushed the sticky fabric of her kimono. "You only deny something once, and then it's over. After you've seen the truth, you don't deny it anymore. Oh, I wish you'd waited to give him that medicine. We could have talked about things. Really talked, while everything was fresh. I don't think he'd have been able to avoid giving a straight answer or two the way he was acting."

Sano shrugged. "I'm not sure how much talking he'd have done, Jou-chan. I asked him where he learned to wrap medicine and he flat out refused to answer me. Didn't shift the subject, didn't ignore me, didn't give me one of those answers that don't answer anything. Just told me not to bring it up again, that he didn't want to talk about it."

"Just like that?"

"Just like that," he said, picking up his tea and taking a sip. "And over a simple thing like medicine. Not the kind of reaction I've come to expect out of Kenshin. Maybe Himura, but not Kenshin."

Kaoru's eyes widened. "Sano, he wasn't back in the Bakumatsu when you drugged him, was he? What if he wakes up like that, and—"

Sano held his arms out. "Whoa, hold on. He was Meiji enough. He's called me Sano-san whenever he's not all there since that first night when I sent him inside to sleep it off. I was Sano in the kitchen, Jou-chan, so stop worrying about that."

She didn't seem as relieved as he'd hoped. "Do you think he'll be better in the morning? I mean, after everything tonight, and the medicine, he should be better, right?"

Sano hesitated, considering his answer. He'd only ever seen one other swordsman lose it like that, but he wasn't sure what the long term results of the Tenken's outburst had been. _Still, I don't see a reason why she can't know about it. Hell, she's probably already heard parts of it, though I doubt Kenshin would have told her about the fit the kid threw_. "When we were in Mt Hiei, Kenshin had to fight this kid, Soujiro. Kenshin kept talking to him, and you know what that tends to do."

He acknowledged Kaoru's nod before continuing. "Well Soujiro just… snapped. Started screaming and dancing around with his head in his hands. You know? Pounded his head on the tatami and everything. The next moment, he was fine. All serious for once, and ready to fight again."

"This is the boy who broke Kenshin's first sakabatou?" Kaoru asked, fitting together the fragments she'd heard of Kenshin's journey.

"Yeah. Same kid. But I don't know what really happened to him after that, Jou-chan. Is he okay? Did that psychotic stuff clear everything up for him? I don't know. And Kenshin didn't exactly start running around in circles screaming. It may not be the same thing." _Actually_, he thought, _if Kenshin was hiding in the past like she says, it couldn't be the same at all. Kenshin said the Tenken was hiding _from_ the past. Not in it_.

Kaoru bit her lip, thinking. "So they fought again right after. And Kenshin won. I remember him saying he used the ougi to defeat him. What did Soujiro seem like just afterward?"

_Trying to see a connection, Jou-chan? No one hit Kenshin with a sword tonight_. Still, it was an honest question. "Aside from the injuries? I don't know. Kind of sad. Like all the energy had been sucked out of him." Sano frowned. "Not the blank staring Kenshin was doing, but similar enough, I guess. I kind of wish I knew how things turned out with Soujiro. But they never caught him."

"Aoshi was real distant when he came back. Listless almost."

Sano rolled his shoulders back. "I think you're grasping at straws here, Jou-chan. If there are any connections, they aren't very good ones. I have no idea what that was back in the yard, and I don't know any better way to talk him back into the Meiji. Not when he's that far gone."

"Great. So really we have nothing." Kaoru finished her tea and stood up, smoothing her stained kimono. "Would you like some more tea, Sano?"

Before he could answer, the outer shoji was jerked open and Kenshin's daisho were tossed onto the tatami with a double thump. Sano turned to confront the intruder but stopped short when he noticed Saitou's glare.

"Where's the Battousai?" he demanded hoarsely, looking distinctly irate.

Kaoru crossed her arms over her chest and stared pointedly at Saitou's still-shod feet. "He's sleeping," she answered shortly. "Please take your shoes off before you join us for tea." She spun around and walked toward the kitchen without waiting for a response.

Sano was shocked when the cop did exactly that, kicking off first one shoe and then the other, and nudging them toward the door before sitting next to the daisho he'd brought inside. _Well her tone _was_ a bit commanding, but still…_ He studied his one-time rival openly, noting the dull shadows under his eyes and limpness of his bangs. _Plus that less than perfect posture of his and the raspy voice, I'd say he's __probably getting as much sleep as Kenshin lately. Serves him right, the bastard_.

Saitou's amber eyes glittered with thinly veiled amusement at Sano's attention. "So the truth then, moron. Where is he?"

"Why you—" Sano clenched a fist and waved it in the cop's direction. "He's sleeping," he ground out. _Calling me a liar, you two-faced, squinty-eyed bastard?_ "What don't you believe about it?"

Saitou looked over his shoulder through the shoji he'd left open, drawing Sano's eyes to the chaos of bloody puddles outside. "Successful hitokiri don't leave blood trails. Battousai was undeniably successful, and though he may be out of practice… You'd have to knock him over the head before he'd leave that kind of mess behind." He turned an appraising look on Sano, as if wondering whether that was possible, and seemed about to say something else when Kaoru returned with a tray holding a teapot and a third mug. He accepted the tea with a curt nod and immediately set it down on the tatami untasted.

"It isn't that I don't want you in my dojo, Saitou," Kaoru started as she settled herself. "After all, you and Kenshin are working together again. But I would like to know why you want to talk to Kenshin in the middle of the night." The tea she poured into her own and Sano's cups while she waited for an answer was considerably darker than the tea she'd brought out at first.

"It's hardly the middle of the night any more," Saitou muttered under his breath. "The Battousai and I need to have a long talk about discretion and common sense, either of which would have kept him from attacking fifteen men in the middle of a neighborhood," he said, picking up his tea and blowing on it.

Kaoru's eyes widened and she nearly dropped her tea. "Fifteen?" she murmured breathlessly, all traces of the authoritative hostess gone in an instant. "So many?"

"Was he seen?" Sano wondered which neighborhood Saitou was talking about. In some of the worse areas of town, no one would have bothered to check on raised voices unless there was a fire involved. _But if he was seen, there'll have to be some incredible cover up. Even if it was just that one woman, but especially if someone else saw him_.

Saitou tossed his free hand in a dismissive gesture. "He left a woman alive," he answered. "I had my people interview her before the reporters got involved. All she'd say is that there was too much blood to see anything clearly. Took me hours to get it all straightened out."

Kaoru's expression grew more horrified as she clutched at the neck of her kimono. "There was a woman?" she whispered. "Was she hurt at all?"

"Aside from seeing her husband slaughtered, I'm sure she's fine," Saitou said, rubbing at one eye with the tips of his fingers. He took a long sip of tea, grimaced, and set the cup down. "It's terrible," he muttered.

"I know, I feel so sorry for her," Kaoru agreed with a nod. "Kenshin couldn't have known she'd be there. He would have found a different way, I know it."

There was a small silence as Saitou stared blankly at her. Finally, he blinked and spoke. "I was referring to your tea. It's the worst I've had since Okita tried his hand at it."

Sano kept his mouth shut and shivered as the room seemed to get several degrees colder. _Not even Yahiko points out the problems with Jou-chan's tea_, he thought. He shifted his eyes over to Saitou, who yawned through the baleful glare Kaoru cast in his direction.

"The papers will be all over this, of course," the cop continued nonchalantly. "Tell Battousai not to go to the station today. He'll meet me at the shrine instead. We need a cover for this." Saitou stood up and stifled a second yawn. "If he's not there by dusk, there will be problems."

"You know, Tokyo is full of shrines, Saitou," Sano muttered, standing to follow Saitou out. "You might want to be more specific."

Saitou rolled his eyes as he slipped on his shoes. "He'll know what I mean, moron." Once on the porch, he studied the yard disapprovingly in the dim, early morning light. "That yard needs serious attention in case someone else drops by to visit. Don't forget the smear on the gate."

Kaoru joined them on the porch, her eyes flitting from one bloody puddle to another before settling on Kenshin's discarded uniform. "I wonder how Kenshin manages to make it all disappear by the time we wake up in the mornings."

"Tch." Saitou stepped off the porch and made his way to the gate. "Maybe you should have let him clean up before you clubbed him." Without turning to face them, he waved an arm over his head in farewell and was gone.

Kaoru stared at Saitou's back, momentarily at a loss for words. "Clubbed him?"

* * *

Further notes: There have been some reviews I can't conveniently reply to with the review-reply/private message feature, and I figure I'll answer them here, as briefly as possible, and in no particular order.

_Ashar_: Thank you for your insight into Kenshin's scar. And I can assure you that this story will not be abandoned.

_anonymousey_: This is a very late reply, but thanks for reading.

"_stars_": I'm glad you like the story, and thanks.

_VKestral_: I'm happy that the thought patterns were interesting. I hope I can maintain that level of twisty-ness.

In general, thank you very much for the feedback. I appreciate it!


	18. Chapter 18

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, the setting, the time period, or even the plot that has gone before. Also, I have no money. It will be a pointless effort in malicious spite to sue me over this piece of _fan fiction_.

Note: -cowers- I'm so sorry about the update lag! I thought the end of the semester would bring peace and joy, but it just brought irate faculty members with broken computers I had to fix. And then I was bitten by a oneshot plot bunny I just had to write… But with the oneshot up, I'll be able to go back to thinking about Revolution. I'll try harder, I promise.

* * *

Chapter 18

Kaoru turned to blink up at Sano. "What in the world was he talking about, 'clubbing' him?"

He shrugged distractedly, casting a worried glance at the yard. "Man's crazy, Jou-chan. Does it matter?" Truly, Kenshin knew how to make a mess. If Sano hadn't known better, he'd have thought Kenshin had killed his targets right there in the yard. There was almost enough blood for it, though diluted with water from the well.

"I suppose not," she sighed, returning her own gaze to the blood-spattered yard in front of them. "Why don't you start scrubbing at the deck, Sano, and the gate before we forget." Kaoru frowned at the puddles. "I truly don't know how he gets rid of those," she murmured.

Sano took a deep breath before stepping off the porch and grabbing a rag from the line. "Probably pours more water on them, or something. I'll figure something out." He dipped a bucket of water and filled the laundry tub for her. "Hey, you have any little buckets around? I don't want to keep coming back to the well every time I need to rinse out this rag."

"In the kitchen, Sano." Kaoru picked up Kenshin's sodden uniform and tried not to shudder too much at the fabric's cold weight in her hands. In the end it was just a uniform, no matter what it was stained with. That notion got her to the laundry bucket, where she immediately dropped the garments and clenched her empty hands. Seeing Kenshin return was not the same as handling the physical evidence of his actions.

The logical part of her mind had known what he was doing in the hours before he came home, and the blood he brought with him was proof enough in any case. But right now, at this particular moment, as her hands squeezed against the gi and sent a cloud of red through the laundry water… Kaoru closed her eyes as she scrubbed. She wasn't ruled by logic, and the rest of her had still been able to think that this wasn't really happening. Even earlier, when Kenshin had broken down in the yard, it had been almost unreal.

She opened her eyes to a bucket of blood, and her breath caught in her throat. She couldn't even see her hands mere inches below the surface. _I'm wrist deep in blood_, she thought numbly. _Is this what he sees when he does laundry?_ Spots started to crowd in at the edge of her vision, and Kaoru reminded herself to keep breathing. The wash water rocked against the sides of the bucket with the force of her trembling, and she jerked her hands up out of the water, staring wide-eyed at the rivulets of crimson that dripped down from her fingers.

"I-" she croaked. "I need new water." _Yes, new water_. Hearing it aloud was enough to spur her to action, and she tipped the bucket over before pulling up a new one. This second round was easier than the first, and less bloody with the first attempt out of the way. She'd noticed the thickness of the fabric from the beginning, but it had never occurred to her how such a thick fabric might have been meant for more than warmth. It certainly held blood well, and her second bucket joined the first in a tidal wave of red.

She wondered whether Kenshin had done all his own laundry back then in Kyoto. His obsession with it now would seem to indicate that he had, but Kaoru couldn't see it. It seemed too unlikely that a soldier would be held responsible for something like laundry, and hitokiri or no, Kenshin had been a soldier. _What was it he said last night? 'If Okami-san wasn't even better at getting blood out…'_ Kaoru swallowed. _How would an innkeeper be so good at such a thing unless she'd had practice? Maybe Kenshin wasn't the only hitokiri stationed there._ Kaoru liked the thought, but had to admit that it was far more likely that Kenshin had simply killed often enough to provide all that practice on his own.

_And he knew it, too_, she thought. _Knew what he'd be bringing home with him, and knew to keep that other woman at a distance_. Despite her resolve to be strong for Kenshin, Kaoru found herself crumbling again at the thought of Tomoe. _She is so ingrained in Kenshin's mind that he summoned up her name before mine._ The thought was a painful one, made more painful by Kaoru's understanding that Kenshin would almost certainly go out of his way to avoid any discussion about it.

If he was reticent about something as mundane as medicine, he would put up a spectacular fight to dodge talking about Tomoe. And Kenshin had proven himself to be every bit as skillful in verbal sparring as in sword fighting when he put his mind to it. If he didn't want them to know about something, they wouldn't be able to pry it out of him. _And he'll act so innocent and cheerful about it, too_, she thought. _Or else he'll turn sullen for a few days. _Sometimes he got that way when he forgot to hide behind his mask.

Kaoru wrung out the gi, setting it to one side when only faintly pink water fell back into the bucket. She picked up the undershirt from Kenshin's police uniform and tossed it in the already dirty water. There was no sense in wasting a clean batch of water on a shirt that easily matched the gi for blood content. Better to get what use she could out of this water before drawing new. If nothing else, it would mean one less puddle of blood in the laundry area.

She let the shirt sink to the bottom of the bucket on its own while she tracked Sano with her eyes. He was apparently satisfied with the deck and gate, and had rummaged around in the storage building for a rake. Kaoru wasn't sure what he hoped to accomplish with the garden tool, but figured this was the 'something' he'd mentioned earlier. With a sigh, she returned her attention to the laundry. It was nowhere near as easy as Kenshin made it look, either physically or emotionally, and she admitted to being woefully out of practice in both respects.

Megumi had told her back in Kyoto that she had to be strong. That a weak little girl wouldn't be able to bring Kenshin back from the battlefield. And Sano had just repeated that, only a few hours earlier. Kaoru was sure the two hadn't talked about it, and for two people as different as Megumi and Sanosuke to say basically the same thing lent the idea more weight. Kaoru wrung the blood out of the shirt and dumped the water before standing up to draw yet another new bucket.

_But it doesn't matter how strong I am if he doesn't know me. He forgot me_, she thought, her eyes stinging as the tears gathered. _If he forgot me once, he can forget me again. If he can forget me, he can forget to come home._ Kaoru gritted her teeth and wiped the tears away with the cleanest part of her arm she could find. There had to be a way for him not to forget her in the first place. She just had to find it, and then to work around the barriers he was sure to put in her path.

Before Kenshin had come to Tokyo, Kaoru had spent most of her afternoons talking with Tae at the Akabeko. Tae had been full of stories where women had to fight for the attention of the men they wanted, but none of the men in those stories had ever plainly forgotten the women's existence. And most of the solutions in Tae's stories had sounded embarrassing for one or both parties. As nice as an easy solution would have been, Kaoru realized she'd be unable to use any of those examples.

In fact, the only practical advice she had received so far that had any chance of success was that she 'keep her head on straight.' Kaoru smiled at that, and added the shirt to her pile of nearly clean clothing. It hurt that Kenshin remembered Tomoe and not her. It hurt that he kept her at a distance. It hurt that the only way she could help him was to sit on the porch and wait. But this was the way of things at the moment. _Before I can change those things, I have to change myself_, she thought.

Kaoru drew water and added the lye, swishing the water until it sprouted suds. The preliminary washing was done, and the worst of the stains were out. Now she could treat the garments like regular clothes. She mashed the hakama, gi, and undershirt down into the soapy water and began scrubbing. _Sano's right_, she swore to herself. _I can't turn weepy at the first mention of competition. She's not here. I am_.

A small part of her mind protested that she wasn't actually there if Kenshin forgot her, and she forced it aside. That was a later step, and she couldn't afford to get ahead of herself. The first thing was to be a strong enough presence not to be forgotten. Kaoru's fingers clenched in the fabric. _And Megumi's right, too. I'm the only one who has a real chance at bringing him back, so I need to grow up_. She held the hakama out of the water, wishing briefly that it was the same stain-concealing blue as the gi. _I need to be worthy of him, and not a weepy little girl. And I need to be consistent about it, or we'll lose him_.

"Hey Jou-chan!"

Sano's voice jerked her out of her thoughts, and she blinked at the pair of white-clothed legs standing directly in front of her. She hadn't heard him approach, or even seen him. Either he was stealthier than she'd believed, or Kenshin's habit of getting too deep in thought was rubbing off on her. "What is it, Sano?"

He crouched down to get a better angle of conversation, studying her eyes. "This is the last area I've got left, so are you done already? It doesn't have to be perfect you know." He dunked his hand into the water and pulled up the gi, pausing for only a moment to examine it before speaking again. "Looks fine to me. You know Kenshin'll wash it again the second he wakes up, anyway. It just has to not scare anyone in the meantime."

Kaoru watched numbly as he wrung the garments out and slung them over the poles with none of Kenshin's usual precision. It was the closest she'd ever seen Sano get to doing laundry, and the sight was almost frightening in its departure from the reality she'd grown so accustomed to. Next she'd find out the man knew how to cook. Everyone was full of surprises these days.

She glanced around the yard, and was shocked to find it looking almost normal in the brightening sunlight. "Sano, you realize that this demonstration will entitle you to a turn cleaning the yard, next in line behind Kenshin and Yahiko, right?"

"What?" He looked left and right, unduly alarmed at the idea. "No, man, this is just a one time thing. You know, because Kenshin's not awake to do it himself. That's all. I don't need a turn, or anything. No thanks." Sano sucked in a breath and let his eyes fall to the reddish mud surrounding the laundry bucket. "Anyway, you go change out of that thing and into something clean while I get this."

Kaoru nodded, taking Sano's bucket and rag with her into the dojo. She didn't know whether Sano had tackled the splashes inside, but a second eye couldn't hurt in any case. It had been nice of him to lighten the mood a little, but after the third red smudge on the way to her room, Kaoru was starting to sink again.

She'd never noticed anything wrong with the dojo, inside or out, after Kenshin's other two assignments, and that meant that he'd been spending time wandering the hallways cleaning up after himself instead of sleeping. _And then the next morning, to make miso and smile like that_, she thought sadly. _He's better at hiding from us than I thought._ Her fist clenched around the rag in frustration._ Damn the man. I can't ease pain he won't show me._

She dropped the rag into the bucket and set it on the tatami outside her room before shutting the shoji. It was a simple matter to remove the kimono, but not so simple a matter to decide where to put it. Kaoru held the garment out in front of her and let her eyes follow the pattern of stains from the bloody sleeves to the diagonal streaks she couldn't remember putting down the sides, and then to the mingling mud and blood from where she'd knelt by Kenshin. There were newer reddish mud stains from her recent stint at the laundry.

Maybe this kimono was better used for rags. She had no doubt that Kenshin could clean it, spending maybe a half hour on it before finally hanging it to dry looking as if it had just been purchased. He could get the blood out of the pale yellow fabric as easily as he got the grass stains out of Yahiko's training hakama. Kaoru pursed her lips and deliberately folded the kimono so that the stains were all inside, buffered from the surroundings by the cleaner sections of fabric.

She opened the wicker clothing chest and buried the kimono beneath the rest of her clothes. If she had her way, Kenshin would never see this garment. 'Nothing you own should smell of blood,' he'd said. He'd been talking to Tomoe, but Kaoru knew the statement would apply to her as well. If she handed Kenshin that kimono, he would wash it for her without a word, but that peculiar haunted look he got sometimes would linger for days, if not longer. _No. This is one of those rare occasions where _I_ can protect _him_. I'm not going to waste it_, she thought, dragging out a training gi and hakama and shutting the lid with a determined thump. _This is well worth the price of a replacement kimono_.

Kaoru tested her binding for tightness and wrapped the gi over her chest. Any blood left on her arms was dry, and she could bathe later. For now, she had to get back out to the yard and help Sano finish up. She hurriedly tied the hakama in place and slipped on new tabi. There was still the kitchen to be cleaned, and anything she'd missed in the hallway. She thought they should wait to take care of Kenshin's room, which almost certainly needed attention. But this was probably the longest he'd slept in a week, and she didn't want to disturb him.

She found Sano standing on the porch, leaning heavily against one of the supports. He looked exhausted, and a quick peek revealed his eyes were shut. She hated to wake him, but she knew he'd fall over if he slept too deeply. Not even Kenshin could sleep standing up, though he apparently had no problem sitting.

"Sano?" she said gently, touching his shoulder.

His eyes snapped open and he stared at her for a moment before rubbing at his face with a yawn. "Yeah, so I'm as done as I can be here, Jou-chan. It's nowhere near as clean as Kenshin could get it, but I don't think anyone will suspect much just looking around." Sano reached over to grab the rake as it started to inch downward from its spot propped against the wall. "I swear," he continued, "that man has got some sort of secret cleaning technique. My guess is it's a little known part of the Hiten Mitsurugi style, passed down through the generations."

Kaoru let herself chuckle at that, though she had her own, darker suspicions about the origins of Kenshin's cleaning abilities. The way Sano's smile didn't quite reach his eyes told her he likely had similar suspicions. She sighed. What had taken Sano and her over an hour to do a mediocre job of would only have taken Kenshin a short while to do perfectly. That kind of skill spoke volumes.

She wondered again just how much of his life Kenshin kept hidden by simply allowing them to come to their own conclusions about 'Hitokiri Battousai.' For one thing, even with his mind deep in the Bakumatsu, he'd been tender for a moment when talking to Tomoe, and his respect for 'Sano-san' had been obvious. Somehow, she didn't think that was the present mentality encroaching on the past. Maybe he hadn't been all that different in some ways. Maybe that was part of the problem.

"You feeling all right about things, Jou-chan?" Sano was leaning against the post again, but his eyes were open and concerned. "About Tomoe?"

Kaoru swallowed the jealous lump of hurt feelings that rose up in her throat. "I'll need to get over it if I'm going to help him, Sano. No," she shook her head. "I don't feel good about it. I hate it. But that doesn't matter now."

"Well I wouldn't say it doesn't matter," he muttered. "Sure it matters. Your feelings matter, Kaoru. But I'm glad you're still on track. You start feeling all weepy, you come find me, okay? I've got two shoulders for crying on, and I'd rather you get sad around me than let on to Kenshin. You know he hates upsetting you."

Kaoru smiled and blinked unexpected tears from her eyes. For a freeloader, Sano was surprisingly good to have around sometimes. "I'll do that." She looked up at the clear blue of the sky, and shook her head again at the cheerful sunlight streaming down over the yard. "Usually about now we're getting up to see what Kenshin left in the kitchen for breakfast."

Sano hunched his shoulders and shoved off from the support beam. "I don't know about you, but I'm not all that thrilled about thoughts of food after cleaning this place. What I'm thrilled about is the thought that I'm done for the day and get to sleep now."

"Sano, it's morning. The day is just starting."

"Well a nap, then. Either way, I'm about to fall over. This has been one hell of a late night, and I didn't even go drinking." Sano yawned again and turned to go inside, but stopped short at a yell from the gate.

"Hey, Sanosuke!" Yahiko sounded tired, and his volume was nowhere near his usual, but it was enough to reach across the yard as he approached. "Megumi says to get your butt over to the clinic."

"What?" Sano cast a persecuted gaze at the sky before bringing his chin down against his chest. "That's not right," he muttered.

Yahiko shot him a glare that conveyed more exhaustion than ire. "What do you mean it's not right? _Some_ of us were up all night working while _other people_ went home to sleep. 'Course it's right. With all the rest you've had, it won't kill you to start early today."

He ignored Sano's half-hearted swat, and settled his hands on his hips while looking around the yard, taking particular note of the extra buckets and the rake. "Why are you up so early, anyway? And doing yard work? Are we getting visitors?" Yahiko looked up at Kaoru, who just smiled. "Nah," he shook his head. "If someone were coming over, you'd have set Kenshin to cleaning. He's way better at it."

The comment struck a sore spot, and Kaoru forced herself to react calmly when she really wanted to smack him upside the head with a bokken. An appeal to his pride would work where nothing else would, and so she shamelessly took that route. "You look so tired from all your hard work at the clinic, Yahiko," she murmured. "Why don't you go inside and get some rest. We can put off training until you've slept."

Yahiko nodded, his eyelids starting sag shut. "I guess you're right, busu. I _do_ deserve some sleep after all that." He meandered into the dojo, passing the bucket outside her room without a pause.

"_He_ deserves some sleep?" Sano complained. "I think I do, too, damn it!" He sighed forlornly at the mental image of his futon drifting off into the distance, and met Kaoru's concerned glance. "Better get going, then. I'll change and check on Kenshin, okay? You might as well go sleep some too, since you don't have to be anywhere. Just leave him a note to meet Saitou at some shrine in town."

"Sano, I know you said he was okay before you gave him that medicine, but…"

He tried on a roguish grin and waved a hand to silence her. "I'll keep the daisho in my room, just in case, okay? You worry too much. He'll be fine. Go sleep." Sano made a detour on the way to the spare room he'd taken over and snatched up the swords Saitou had brought inside. Now that he thought of it, it was a bit odd that Kenshin hadn't inquired about them in the kitchen. He shrugged as he shut the shoji behind him. Kenshin had been really out of it at the time, and not even Kenshin could be expected to be obsessive about his weapons after a night like that.

He shucked his pants and jacket and tossed on the spare set he'd brought over a few days ago. At this point, it was starting to look like he'd better just bring the rest of his things and move into the dojo officially. He somehow doubted anyone would mind, especially if he helped out on occasion. Maybe even offered to pick up tofu every once in a while. _But no laundry_, he thought. _That is Kenshin's domain, and he can keep it_.

A quick glance at his discarded outfit showed that he'd been pretty good about keeping clean, though the arms were tinged with a deep pink from catching Kenshin. Maybe he'd be doing some laundry after all. Sano shrugged, content to leave it for now, and crossed the hallway to check on his friend. _With luck, he'll still be fast asleep_, he thought. _The man needs it_.

Kenshin _was _still fast asleep when Sano looked in on him, and still exactly as he'd been left. Sano frowned at that, and knelt down to check Kenshin's pulse. He shook his head, amazed once again at the potency of Megumi's medicine. For Kenshin to still be this sound asleep hours later was quite an accomplishment, considering his usual sleeplessness of late.

He sat back on his heels and watched for a few moments. _The breathing's maybe a little deeper_, he decided. _Wish I could sleep like that_. Sano had only seen Kenshin looking so peaceful early on, after their first real fight and before that duel he had with Jin-e. He'd never asked just what happened that night, but he figured something had been said or done that had wiped those genuinely peaceful expressions off Kenshin's face and replaced them with very convincing imitations.

Sano decided he'd stalled long enough, and stood up to leave. "Sorry I can't be here when you wake up, buddy. Turns out Megumi's a slave driver." He pulled the shoji closed behind him and made his way out to the porch. Kaoru was nowhere in sight, and he smothered a yawn behind one fist. _At least some people are going to get some sleep around here. Most of them, in fact. Just not me_. Sano resigned himself to the second half of what would probably end up being the longest day of his life.

"First, I'm up all day dealing with idiots, then I'm dealing with Kenshin, who's got more issues than anyone I've met. Then all that cleaning, and now back to the idiots." He looked skyward again. "I'm not sure what I did," he addressed the stray clouds. "But I'm sorry, okay? Take it easy on me." The sky was unresponsive, and he stepped off the porch with a groan, tugging the gate closed as he started his walk to the clinic.

* * *

Note: Yeah, so Yahiko's part amounted to a cameo in this chapter. Sorry. He's got bigger parts later on, and some cool lines, so please don't be upset that he's been sort of sidelined for a while.

Also, the more I write Sano, the more I like him. I liked him plenty before, but he just keeps growing on me.


	19. Chapter 19

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, the setting, the time period, or even the plot that has gone before. Also, I have no money. It will be a pointless effort in malicious spite to sue me over this piece of _fan fiction_.

Notes: At long last, the return of our main character! Sort of. -ducks the wide variety of rotten fruit hurled by irate readers-

And thank you, Ashar, for your review. I am indeed back on Revolution, though I can make no promises about Kaoru hearing a full story any time soon. I'll see what I can do. -ducks more fruit-

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Chapter 19

His head hurt. It was the one thing that finally managed to break through the inky haze he'd been floating in for… he wasn't sure how long. Once the headache got through, the nausea crashed over him with all the power of a cresting wave, and Kenshin choked back a whimper. He raised a hand to his head, rubbing at his eyes. _There had better not be an envelope tonight, Iizuka, or I think I might have to hurt you_. Certainly, he'd be hurting whichever kitchen girl had made last night's dinner. Or scaring her, anyway. He had quite a ways to fall still before he'd set out to hurt one of Okami-san's girls.

Kenshin forced his eyes open and immediately narrowed them against the glaring brightness in his room. _I must have slept late_, he thought, sluggishly pushing himself into a sitting position. The walls and floor danced a merry tempo in time to the twisting of his stomach, and Kenshin let himself sink back to the floor with a little groan. He shut his eyes to block out his spinning surroundings, but found that the darkness only worsened the tilting sensation.

"Kuso," he whispered. "No food could be bad enough to do this to a person." He briefly considered mushrooms and mentally revised the statement to include only food likely to be prepared at the inn. Just after that unfortunate culinary experience, Shishou had taught him to find a focal point when dizzy, and Kenshin sought one out, trying not to move his head too much to either side. His bleary gaze finally settled on his katana, perched near the wall atop of pile of bright fabric. The sense that something was wrong stabbed through the general wash of pain filling his head, and he winced.

_Where is the wakizashi?_ Kenshin could well understand that he wasn't sitting up against a wall at the moment. Feeling like this, he'd never have been able to stay upright. But for the sword to be out of his reach was odd, and for the second half of the daisho to be missing entirely was… wrong. Kenshin tried with only partial success to push aside his headache and think. He didn't remember breaking the wakizashi, and something like that would have been more than memorable._ But if I didn't break it, why... or where...?_

A splash of red flooded his vision, and a dimly lit room with broken shoji. A small handful of dead men, obviously his own work to judge by the pattern of slashes across their bodies. A man running from him, clearly trying to escape his tenchu. Someone nearby screaming in pain, but this one man can't be allowed to reach the street outside. A hurled wakizashi and the spin to finish this other victim quickly. No one needed to die slowly, not even enemies. Quick death was the only mercy he was allowed to grant.

The blood-streaked walls and shoji of that other room faded into the strangely unpainted room he found himself in presently, and Kenshin frowned briefly at the walls before focusing his attention on the more pressing matter of the missing sword. _I would not have left the wakizashi there, no matter how many extra targets appeared. And such a throw would not have broken it._ Again, the feeling of wrongness washed over him. _I'm missing something. These pieces do not fit_.

Kenshin rolled onto his side and gritted his teeth against the nausea that accompanied the motion. It took a worrisome amount of effort to toss back the covers and crawl from the futon to the katana, but he felt immeasurably better having its weight solidly in his hand. He decided that the issue of the wakizashi could be handled later, when the mere thought of standing up was no longer enough to set the floor to heaving.

It occurred to him as he dragged himself to lean cross-legged against the wall that he didn't recognize the fabric his sword had been resting on. He looked at it again, seeking a new focal point to block out the circling walls and keep the vertigo at bay. _It's pink_, he thought, rubbing his temples at the suddenly more powerful headache. _Why is there pink fabric in my room? I don't wear pink_. He paused, trying to dispel some of the fog persistently wrapping itself around his mind. _No one here wears pink. It's too bright a color for Ishin Shishi to wear in Kyoto._

Kenshin let his head fall back against the wall and tried to ignore the throbbing stab behind his eyes. Okami-san had never left anything in his room that was not his, and his possessions were few enough that he'd know if they included anything pink. This was too much at once. The unfamiliar walls, the fabric, the missing sword that was more disconcerting than the rest... _That's it, then. The blood has finally driven me mad_. _I'm seeing things_. He fought the urge to laugh. It had only been a matter of time, really, but he'd hoped it wouldn't come to this. Katsura-san would be upset that his investment hadn't paid off. _Not even a full year_, Kenshin thought bitterly. _Still, I suppose it's better than most, if rumors hold any truth_.

He flicked his thumb against the tsuba and unsheathed nearly a foot of the blade. A warrior worth his weapons took good care of them, and he knew he was more particular than most, missing wakizashi aside at the moment. If he held the katana at a certain angle, he'd be able to use the mirrored surface to see just what an insane hitokiri looked like. Kenshin held the sword up and brought his head forward away from the wall, hoping there was an appreciable difference between sane and insane.

"Wha--?" There was a chink of metal as the sword slipped from his numb fingers and clattered to the tatami in front of him. "...seeing things," he muttered, staring wide-eyed at the blade. The shock was almost enough to make him forget the other ingredients currently contributing to his misery. He unsteadily reached for the hilt, letting the sheath fall to the tatami with a soft thump as he picked the sword up again.

Kenshin blinked, shaking his head as quickly as he dared in an attempt to clear it. When he looked back to the sword, nothing had changed. _But that's the wrong side_, he thought numbly. Hesitantly, he placed the first two fingers of his left hand against what should have been the sharp edge of his sword. _Not sharp. How is that possible? Am I feeling things, too? Well, even a mad hitokiri can't imagine away blood. Blood will be real enough proof_. He pressed his fingers to the sword and dragged them down the katana's length before bringing his hand back toward his face. Nothing.

_Then I'm not seeing things_. He looked around the room again, trying to keep up with the shifting walls. They really _weren't_ painted. That fabric really _was_ pink. This sword really _was_ sharp on the wrong side._ Everything's backwards. The world has gone mad in my place_. The thought was unsettling, more so than the notion that he'd finally succumbed to the fate of most hitokiri. He tacked it onto the growing list of things that were wrong this morning, or this afternoon, or whenever this was.

_No. There is a perfectly legitimate reason for all of this. There has to be. There are no unpainted walls at the Kohagi Inn, so I am elsewhere. That's simple. And the pink..._ He stopped there. An elusive thought flitted by, and he almost grasped it before it slipped away. Kenshin stared at the fabric for several moments before rubbing a fist against his eyes with a sigh. He couldn't explain the pink. It was just too visible. _ Visibility will get you killed these days, especially in Kyoto._

The throbbing behind his eyes picked up tempo, and the feeling that something was wrong drifted past again. _Damn it, what am I missing?_ He stared at the fabric. His shishou's words echoed in his mind. 'Where intuition fails, logic is often successful.' A process of elimination, then. _Pink_. No sense of wrongness accompanied the thought. _Pink is a highly visible color_. So far, there wasn't a problem, except for this mystery fabric's presence in the first place. _And there is no denying that being visible is dangerous for a hitokiri._

That left Kyoto. But what was wrong with Kyoto? Kenshin let the odd, backwards sword drop to his side as he moved both hands up to prop his head. He stifled one of the bitter laughs that were becoming more common lately as his job seemed more endless. _What _isn't_ wrong with Kyoto these days? Kenshin, you really are a baka deshi if you can't figure this out_, he told himself. _Shishou would be laughing at you. Something isn't right. Or is less right than normal. What is it?_

Kenshin reached out to snag his fingers in a fold of the fabric, pulling it out of its neat bundle. He frowned. _A gi. A pink gi. I don't wear pink_. He asked himself why, hoping something in his reasoning would provide another clue. _Pink is too bright to wear in Kyoto. That's why I don't wear it_. Kenshin held the gi up, inspecting as much of its heavily mended form as would stay still for him. It was in his size and mended with the obsessively tiny stitches his shishou had always chided him for. And along with the white hakama the gi had been resting on, it was the only clothing in the room that he could see._ I must actually wear this thing_, he concluded incredulously.

But he wouldn't wear it in Kyoto. That much was certain, and it meant he wasn't in Kyoto. And hadn't been, long enough for his clothing to need this much mending. It would make sense that he'd only carry one sword outside of Kyoto, but the useless thing at his side still didn't fit. The wrongness was starting to fade, but he got the distinct impression that he was circling around the one piece of this puzzle that would snap everything else into place. He settled back against the wall, letting the gi drape across his lap. _Time and patience will give me the answer. If there's one thing I learned from living with Shishou, it's patience_.

Kenshin closed his eyes and tried to clear his mind. He could think of only two reasons for carrying a sword that wouldn't cut anything. Whatever his shishou said, he wasn't an idiot, and that left only a desire not to do his opponents serious damage. While it would be nice to think his job would end someday and he wouldn't have to kill people anymore, that memory of throwing the wakizashi was recent. And he'd obviously been using real weapons at the time, not this sword with its bizarrely reversed blade.

He reached down to wrap his hand around the hilt, and brought the sword up to balance across his knees. The sharp edge, shimmering where it shouldn't be, mocked him. But for all that, and despite the illogic of its very existence, Kenshin felt a deep fondness for the sword. His head still hurt, the room still spun, his stomach still lurched, and he was no closer to figuring things out, but in the meantime, there was a certain amount of comfort to be derived from this length of steel. Comfort of an entirely different sort than he got from the missing daisho.

* * *

"Kenshin?" Kaoru pressed an ear against the shoji, hoping to hear some sign of movement. Medicine or not, this was far too long for him to still be sleeping. Even Yahiko had finally gotten up for some lunch, and now that he was doing his daily swing practice, Kaoru had a chance to offer Kenshin what rice and miso had been left. But only if he was awake.

She tapped a knuckle against the wood frame of a panel, and waited a moment. If he was thinking, it might take him a while to respond to something as quiet as that, and if he was awake, there was little chance he wasn't thinking. "It's been a long time since you've eaten last, Kenshin," she called softly. "I've made some lunch if you're interested." Kaoru blinked at what might have been either a sound or her imagination. Only one way to tell. If he was awake, she'd given him ample warning. But just to be sure… "I'm coming in, okay?"

Kaoru eased the shoji open, and blinked at the empty futon before shifting her eyes over to the wall, where Kenshin, draped in his pink gi, hunched over the unsheathed sakabatou in his lap. She'd seen him sit against the wall in a variety of ways, but never quite so dejectedly. Biting her bottom lip, she stepped in and shut the shoji behind herself, walking to his side and kneeling silently nearby.

He hadn't looked up at her yet, but she knew he'd acknowledge her in his own time. Given his reaction when she'd pushed him too hard last night, she was content to take the long way this time, especially since she didn't have Sano as backup. He couldn't ignore her forever, if he was even ignoring her in the first place. Kaoru thought it much more likely that he was simply thinking too hard, and as patient as Kenshin could be, Kaoru was determined to outwait him in this.

After what seemed like an age of stillness, he ran a forefinger down the length of the blade, following the waves of the hamon as though studying the roads on a foreign map. _Oh no_, she thought, suddenly feeling colder. _ What if Sano was wrong?_ Kaoru fidgeted nervously. From what she'd seen last night, Kenshin would still be Kenshin, just harsher and with more moods at his disposal. There was nothing to fear, except Tomoe.

He raised his gaze from the sword, turning his head to look plaintively at her. "What year is this?" he asked softly.

As unexpected as the question was, she still managed a straightforward answer instead of gaping silence. "It's 1878, Kenshin. We're eleven years into the Meiji era now." She watched for the confused flicker she'd seen last night, but didn't see it in his eyes or posture. Whatever he was thinking was carefully hidden behind his dull stare, and Kaoru found she couldn't tell whether the information surprised him. She didn't think he'd have asked Tomoe a question like that, but decided she'd better introduce herself regardless. "My name is--"

"Kaoru-dono," he finished for her, still speaking in a hushed tone. He blinked, and then returned his eyes downward, his shoulders drooping slightly to match the motion.

_He remembers me_. Kaoru's stomach dropped out from beneath her, and she fought off the smile threatening to inch the corners of her lips upward. His hair faded into a shimmering blur, and she blinked her eyes clear. _Then he remembers last night, too. Sano _was _right, and we _don't_ have to start over._ She took a moment to find her breath before responding. "I'm happy that you remembered, Kenshin." Despite her elation, his demeanor worried her, and her face felt caught between a frown and a smile. She wished she had something to do with her hands, and finally settled for clasping them in her lap where the hakama could hide her white knuckles from Kenshin.

"Are you feeling better today?" she asked. He didn't seem to be any happier, but she didn't know how much she could reasonably expect after last night's breakdown in the yard. Her mind pieced together the little she'd learned from Sano during their talk last night. This could be the lack of energy he'd seen in Soujiro afterwards, or maybe even the distance Aoshi had kept until very recently. From Misao's letters, she knew Aoshi was still somewhat apart from the rest of the Oniwabanshu, but he was getting slightly more personable, and if this was that, then at least Kaoru had a timeline she could anticipate.

"Was this one dying yesterday?"

Kenshin's response filtered through her jumble of thoughts, and she blinked. "What? Dying?" What was he talking about? Was he still thinking in the Bakumatsu after all? "No, Kenshin, you weren't dying."

"Then no. This one is not feeling better today." He smiled briefly to let her know the statement wasn't entirely serious, but was unable to hold the expression in place. "He hasn't felt quite this ill in a long while, he hasn't."

Kaoru wondered which kind of ill he meant, then figured there was no rule stating he couldn't mean both. His bangs hid most of his face from her, but she'd seen his eyes earlier and thought it safe to assume they remained as bleak now as they had been when he'd asked her the year. Not for the first time, she considered taking a pair of scissors to those bangs of his. Or at least training him to keep his chin up high enough so she could really see him.

"But the medicine," she started, stopping when he looked up at her, obviously puzzled. _How could he not remember the medicine?_ she thought. Behind the confusion lurked that haunted, lifeless look she'd hoped to avoid. Kaoru decided to press on anyway. "You took some of Megumi's medicine to sleep. Sano gave it to you last night, remember?" She watched as the confusion faded to acceptance, but not recognition. At the moment, she wasn't sure what to make of this. He'd remembered her but not the medicine, so maybe the problem wasn't that he was stuck in the Bakumatsu, but that he didn't remember last night. She tossed that aside. He'd asked her what year it was, a clear sign that he recalled some of the incident in the yard.

Kenshin took a slow, deep breath and let it out before speaking. "So that's what happened. This one has been slipped poisons that had gentler effects."

"Poisons?" Kaoru felt her eyes widen and made a mental note to shut her mouth. She'd long since grown accustomed to the idea that Kenshin had spent most of his life in some amount of physical danger, but she'd never extended the notion to include something as devious as this. They'd have a hell of a time getting him to take sleeping medicine if he now equated it with poison.

His lips quirked up again, and Kenshin managed to keep the expression for longer this time around. "Generally, Kaoru-dono, the safest way to attack a hitokiri is anonymously. Poison is good for that."

Her mind raced, coming up with all sorts of horrifying scenarios involving poisoned drinks and weapons. She added these to her vision of Bakumatsu Kyoto and was again surprised that so many people had made it out of that place alive. Kaoru swallowed, preparing to ask for some clarification, but then stopped.

Belatedly, she realized what he'd just done, and she shoved her clenched fists into the folds of her hakama to keep from hitting him. _Sometimes, Kenshin, you are a manipulative little..._ _Honestly, I shouldn't ha__ve caught it so soon_, she thought. _He's off his game_. So he wanted to avoid talking about last night, did he? And to the point where he'd rather talk about Kyoto. His choice of distraction was almost more upsetting than his attempt to misdirect in the first place, and she was having none of it. "You mean you don't remember taking the medicine?"

If he was disappointed at her persistence, he didn't show it. Kaoru hadn't expected him to, really. He rarely let anyone see disappointment on his face or in his manner. But she also hadn't expected him to turn inward and shut himself off so completely. She hadn't known it was even possible. Where before she hadn't felt anything out of the ordinary, now she seemed to be sitting next to an emptiness that was Kenshin only in its physical shape. Even when he was shut off from his surroundings and fighting with Saitou, he had not been this distant. She shut her mouth with a click of teeth, and tried to school her face from horror into a more neutral expression.

She dimly recalled Sano's mention that he'd not wanted to talk about the medicine. They'd thought it was a trivial thing, but it must have some importance to inspire this sort of reaction. He'd asked her the year, so he wasn't sidestepping a conversation about memory. It _had _to be the medicine. But why? _Maybe someone he knew got sick and died, or maybe _he_ got sick..._ She couldn't come up with any other connections between medicine and his role as a hitokiri, but that was excluding ten whole years. Ten years was a long time to forge a bad relationship with something as universal as medicine.

Kaoru regretted pressing the issue, but set those thoughts aside for later deliberation and concentrated instead on the Kenshin-shaped void. Whatever it was he had done, he was slowly undoing it now, like clearing a suffocating layer of snow from an elaborate rock garden so the stones could be seen again. She breathed a sigh of relief as the atmosphere in the room started to return to what passed for normal after such a display. Before this, Kaoru had never realized how much of a _presence _Kenshin usually had, but she was glad to feel it returning. She considered saying something, but thought it best to focus her attention on calming herself. They spent an uncomfortably long moment in silence as that presence gradually assumed something near its previous level.

"This one remembers," Kenshin started hesitantly, "stalking guards, Kaoru-dono. And eliminating targets. No." He shook his head slowly, as if afraid it would fall off with too vigorous a motion. "Not 'eliminating targets,'" he continued. "_Murdering_ people," he whispered harshly.

Kaoru reached out and placed a hand on his arm, leaving it there even after he visibly stiffened at the contact. "Kenshin." But what was there to say, really? She _didn't_ understand. It _wasn't_ okay. It _certainly_ wasn't over now. None of the usual sayings applied here. Kaoru decided not to even try. Any comfort she offered now had to be indirect or he'd refuse it. "Saitou came by the dojo last night, after you got back. He said you had killed fifteen men." She was proud of herself for not letting her voice shake too much. Maybe she could do this, after all.

The look he shot her was not at all the lifeless, dazed expression from before, but a hard, calculating stare that seemed to weigh everything, spoken or unspoken. "_Only_ fifteen?" he asked in the same intense, heavy voice he'd used last night when trying to send her away. "Are you sure?"

She swallowed nervously. _'Only?' How many more did you think there were?_ "Yes, Kenshin. He said fifteen." It occurred to her then what he had been trying to ask, what had perhaps been responsible for the disturbing vanishing act he had shown her. "And that the woman lived."

In yet another sudden change of manner, he fell back against the wall, the tension bleeding off his shoulders and his breath coming in short gasps. Several moments passed before he managed to speak in wavering whisper. "I thought I'd killed her. There was a woman there, but I couldn't _remember_…" Kenshin closed his eyes with a sob and worked to bring his breathing back under control. "This is not working, Kaoru-dono," he finally mumbled through his hands. "None of this is working. It took months for this one to fall so hard in Kyoto." He sucked in a breath. "_Months_… not _days_."

Kaoru spent a small handful of seconds weighing the risks involved, then shoved all her calculations aside and reached out to pull him into an embrace. He didn't resist as she wrapped her arms around his trembling shoulders, tucking her own shoulder under his chin. She clenched her hands against his back and gently blew a few strands of red hair away from her face. Kaoru had half expected him to stay still only long enough to politely acknowledge her attempt before pulling away, but he surprised her again by finally losing what careful control he'd been able to maintain.

She wasn't sure she'd ever seen him really cry before this. Even last night, he'd remained coherent enough to speak, and the shaking had been quickly replaced by dazed stillness. Kaoru realized that his daze in the yard had simply been a smaller, less complete instance of him closing himself off from them, and she channeled her fear into words. "Don't you even think about leaving this dojo, Himura Kenshin," she murmured fiercely over his tears. "You belong here with your friends. We are here to help you, and we will never hate you for what you do. Not even Yahiko." This had the opposite of the calming effect she'd intended, and she sighed, drawing him tighter to herself, seeing some of her fears mirrored in him.

Kenshin somehow managed a few quavering words in between his erratic breathing, words that she had been expecting but which still irritated her to no end. "This one does not deserve--"

"You shut up." If there was anything she was not willing to hear from him at the moment, it was a reminder of what Sano had termed his 'unworthy talk.' "You belong here with the people who care about you, whether you think so or not." He had no response for her, and Kaoru sighed again, shutting her eyes.


	20. Chapter 20

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, the setting, the time period, or even the plot that has gone before. Also, I have no money. It will be a pointless effort in malicious spite to sue me over this piece of _fan fiction_.

Note: So sorry. I had to go out of town for two weeks to be a bridesmaid. You'd be amazed at just how little time there is for writing when you're busy wiping eyes and strewing confetti and otherwise being the only stable presence in the middle of a maelstrom of pre-wedding angst. Yikes. But the important people (bride and groom) seem happy, so all is well.

Also, I'm pleased to announce my very first footnotes with this chapter. Those two terms that mean little-to-nothing in the text are explained below. Well, please enjoy. It's the longest one yet... by over a thousand words.

* * *

Chapter 20

"It took you long enough."

Kenshin gritted his teeth at the comment as he carefully picked his way through the maze of incense boxes designed to herd visitors to the raised altar at the center of the shrine. He knew from the last two hours that a vigorous head shake was liable to floor him, and he didn't want to test the limits of the world's current stability by rolling his eyes. He'd had to stop along the way several times to wait for the ground to quit moving, and while he was glad he'd only actually fallen the once, he was determined not to repeat the event in front of Saitou.

"This one was told 'sunset' and arrived at sunset." His head throbbed in time to his footsteps, and the relief was almost palpable when he sank to the stairs near his partner. "You want this one here earlier? Give an earlier deadline. You've got no room to complain." In truth, though, he'd meant to be here earlier. Hours earlier. And he'd left in time to do that, had the vertigo not decided to meet him along the way and keep him company.

Saitou still hadn't looked up from the stack of parchment in his lap, but Kenshin was content to be ignored for a while. He sat forward and braced his head in his hands, focusing on the striations in the stone under his feet. The longer he didn't move, the better he felt, except for the headache he'd come to accept as a long term companion. He had become deeply engrossed in the affairs of a solitary ant carting off a ragged bit of leaf when the shuffle of papers next to him called for his attention.

Kenshin looked up and watched Saitou dig in a pocket for a cigarette. To judge solely from the remains of a half dozen other cigarettes in the area, it had been a long wait for the man. He added it to the list of things he should feel bad about, then frowned and took it back off the list. He really wasn't late, and it was Saitou who had insisted on the meeting in the first place. "Well? You wanted this one here. He's here, that he is."

"Battousai," Saitou spat with a cloud of smoke, radiating suppressed frustration. "In Kyoto, I once sent a squad out on what was supposed to be a routine patrol. You managed to kill them all on the stairs to a shrine. I'd have gone with them if I'd known what they were up against."

"_Who_ they were up against," Kenshin corrected absently, staring at a shadowed form of a hanging branch in the distance. Story time with Saitou was not what he'd expected when he entered the shrine, and he wasn't sure where this was going, or even which group of Shinsengumi Saitou was talking about. He could recall at least five such encounters off hand, though probably only one of those troupes had been third squad. Given the level of irritation in the wolf's voice, the story's outcome would be interesting at the least.

Saitou quirked an eyebrow at him, but ignored the correction for the moment. "They were my colleagues, and though they got themselves killed tackling some_thing_ beyond themselves, I don't hold it against them." He took a long drag on the cigarette and let the smoke out slowly. "They didn't know what would happen any more than I did, and by the time you showed up it was too late for them to get help. It was _not_ too late for you, though."

"Oro?" Kenshin blinked at the last comment's leap of logic, but wasn't given a chance to do more than turn his head before the rest came out in a low, furious growl.

"What the hell were you thinking, you idiot? We planned for _ten_. We planned for you to get me if there were more. We _planned_, Battousai," he said as he jabbed a finger in Kenshin's direction. "If I'd known you would brainlessly tackle that large a task on your own, I'd have never sent you out alone, plan or not!"

Saitou spoke over Kenshin's attempt to answer him, his voice reaching a yell that reflected the ire he'd clearly been nursing during the wait before sinking into the calm anger that Kenshin was much more familiar with. "If we're going to work together, we're going to work _together_, damn it! And not pull stunts like that! I can't afford to send you after targets if you're going to go crazy trying to kill them all yourself. It's called sharing, Battousai. Sharing the workload. Sharing the danger. Get it?"

It took a few moments for Kenshin to process that Saitou had actually shouted at him. He briefly flipped through his memories involving the man and couldn't find a single other occurrence of a lost temper. Much more common was the irritated scowl, the hint of danger swirling between words but not spoken outright. Terse or tense, but always low key. Last night must have included a precise combination of aggravations to get this sort of response. He wondered briefly if it could be repeated, but dismissed the idea. A repeat of last night was something to avoid, regardless of interesting outcomes.

"This one—"

"No," Saitou interrupted him sharply. "Not 'this one.' I want to talk with the man who's going to be killing people with me. We can't afford any more miscommunications, Battousai."

Kenshin allowed a glare to slide onto his face. "You know, I'm not actually two different people, Saitou."

"You act like two people," he countered, gesturing with the cigarette. "I make plans with one man, and the other forgets them as soon as he draws blood. Find some middle ground or leave the rurouni at home. I didn't agree to work with a wandering pacifist who loses his mind when confronted with the need to kill. I agreed to work with the sane, practical killer I fought against in Kyoto. I _asked_ to work with him, in fact."

"While that's very flattering, Saitou, I don't intend to be Battousai again. Not for you, not for Yamagata-sama, not for anyone. As Battousai I was nothing more than a tool for the government." Kenshin resumed his earlier position staring at the ground, noting that the ant had long since moved on. What angry ki remained after Saitou's explosion had subsided, held in check by a combination of self control and tobacco. He sighed, sensing that Saitou was giving him room to talk.

The implicit offer of help was tempting, despite the high probability that he'd be dealing with snide remarks about it for the rest of his time on the police force. At this point, Kenshin wasn't sure he cared. This wasn't working. He was floundering, and at this rate he would swiftly become a danger to those around him. Unlike his friends at the dojo, Saitou knew Kyoto during the Bakumatsu. Knew what it was like. The wolf might even understand his reluctance to go back to it, though he hadn't really left it himself. However much his friends wanted to help, they simply didn't have the background, and a very large part of him preferred it that way. But Saitou, despite being a bastard most of the time... Well, let him laugh as long as he had some constructive advice to go along with the snark.

"I woke up in Kyoto this afternoon, Saitou," he said in a rush. "I may also have spent a good deal of time there last night." Kenshin was glad his position blocked his view of Saitou's face, which he felt certain held an expression he'd rather not see. "After killing Fujimori, I tried to go to Choshu-Shishi headquarters, but last night… I don't remember. It's getting worse." He shook his head slightly, keeping his elbows on his knees. There. He'd said it. Done was done. This was a conversation he doubted he could escape now, no matter how appealing escape might seem.

Saitou was silent for a moment, digesting the information. "You recognized me last night, Battousai. And your ki wasn't hostile, so you saw more than Shinsengumi."

Kenshin let out a short and bitter laugh. "I may have been too busy worrying over the bad report Katagai-san would have for Katsura-san." He sat up and folded a leg as he shifted to a position facing Saitou on the stairs. The narrow railing pressed uncomfortably into his back, but overall he found the new position much better than hunching forward.

"I vaguely remember thinking they'd sic a doctor on me after hearing how badly it went," Kenshin muttered as he shut his eyes and leaned his head back, glad the throbbing behind his eyes had finally subsided to a dull pressure. He had his doubts about the medicinal qualities of whatever they'd dosed him with last night. Nausea and vertigo aside, there weren't many medicines out there that caused headaches as persistent as this one.

The shifting of fabric across from him signified a shrug, and Saitou's voice held an uncommon undercurrent of discomfort. "Maybe."

Kenshin tumbled the tone of voice around in his mind for a moment, trying to find the right explanation for it. Since he'd first stepped into the Tokyo police uniform, Saitou's attitude had been one of sarcastic camaraderie similar to their interactions while handling Shishio. He'd been helpful on occasion, contrary more often, but uncommonly teamwork-oriented when it mattered. Kenshin could see how discussing this would be enjoyable for the wolf with all the potential for future jibes. He could also see how disconcerting it would be from the teamwork stance. But Saitou's uneasiness seemed to be something more than that.

"But regardless of that, the important things are sticking," Saitou said matter-of-factly as he blew a lungful of smoke in Kenshin's direction.

_The important things?_ Kenshin put that together with the rest of Saitou's words about the night, and his eyes snapped open. "You are _not_ one of the important things, Saitou!" he ground out, leveling a scowl at his partner.

Saitou rubbed at his eyes with a tired sigh, the white of his glove showing up brightly in the growing darkness. "I'm referring to the details of the assignments," he muttered. "You knew you'd abandoned our plan, at least." In place of anger, there was now just exhaustion.

Kenshin shook his head. "The assignments aren't important, either," he insisted. He ignored Saitou's raised eyebrow and continued, trying to convey what bothered him the most about the current situation. "It's the people, Saitou. Kaoru-dono, Sano, Yahiko, Megumi-dono… The _people_ are important, and I'm forgetting them! Kaoru-dono thought it was necessary to _introduce_ herself to me!"

"Was it?" Saitou asked, genuine curiosity coming through in both his voice and eyes.

"No!" Kenshin let out an angry breath and unclenched his fists. "I... don't know," he spluttered. "…maybe." He felt Saitou's eyes pinning him against the railing and fought the urge to fidget nervously as he avoided them. Had the introduction been necessary? He didn't think so. He'd known her. Just not the year. "Not when she did," he finally said. "I knew her when she came in. Before that, last night, I don't remember," he admitted. "I don't know what kind of behavior would inspire an introduction the next day, and I was afraid to ask. I suspect I'd rather _not_ know."

Saitou shrugged again and scraped his cigarette across the steps before tossing it into the incense box to join its companions. "It doesn't sound like they're doing a very good job as anchors. You should talk to them about that."

Kenshin watched Saitou reach up for the lantern on the top step and bring it down to their level before opening the door and lighting the candle inside. _Anchors? He has a name for it?_ To have a title for something like that implied having a use for it as well, but Kenshin couldn't see Saitou getting lost in the past. The man was far too stable for anything like that. _I used to be stable, too_, he thought wryly. He'd had an oath to devote himself to, and a very clear set of boundaries. But even in Kyoto, before the oath, he'd had a better handle on himself. _But in Kyoto, there were things to _keep_ me stable. Not many, but enough_. He shied away from that train of thought, and concentrated instead on figuring out what Saitou might be using as an anchor. He hoped it wasn't cigarettes.

"Here."

He blinked down at the stack of parchment that had landed in his lap, the top page of which boldly proclaimed another fifteen dead on the sword of the 'Tokyo Slasher.' Kenshin looked back up at Saitou. "No. You said something interesting, Saitou. I want to hear about anchors." His request was met with stony silence, and Saitou's return to his uncooperative attitude only served to strengthen Kenshin's growing suspicion on the matter. "What does Tokio-dono do when you come home at night?"

Saitou's expression firmed from a vaguely uncommunicative frown to embarrassed hostility. "She serves tea that tastes good and doesn't hit me over the head. Beyond that is not your business, Battousai," he spat.

Kenshin felt his cheeks flush with heat. "T-that is _not_ what this one meant!"

"Just read," Saitou said, nodding sharply at the papers he'd tossed earlier.

Sensing the futility of an attempt to correct the misunderstanding, Kenshin ducked his head and obeyed the order, resolving to broach the subject again as soon as he finished. He read the first section slowly, mentally filing the reported details of actions he only had indistinct memories of performing. He'd have time to examine them later, preferably without an audience. He had just started the next section when Saitou stood up and began pacing.

Kenshin made an attempt to ignore the motion, but the flickering of the lantern only added dancing shadows to the mix and between the lantern and the pacing, Kenshin was beginning to feel distinctly glad he hadn't eaten anything today. After a few more sentences, Kenshin stopped reading and stared up at the man through the curtain of his bangs. "Would you please stop pacing, Saitou?"

"Giving you a headache?" He stood still for a moment, inspecting Kenshin much more keenly than the statement would normally have called for.

Kenshin shook his head, wary of the attention but pleased the pacing had stopped. He doubted he could make things any worse by being truthful. "I already had one. You're making me nauseous again."

Saitou's eyes narrowed sharply, glittering in the reflected lamplight. "You didn't eat any of that girl's cooking, did you?"

He shuddered. "I couldn't." Kenshin had been asked to eat twice before leaving, and each time, the mere thought had nearly sent his stomach on a revolt. Probably that had worried Kaoru far more than anything he'd done last night. He'd never refused a meal from her before that he could remember. Kenshin made a mental note to apologize for that when got back. _Wait a minute…_ He pushed aside his physical reaction to the mention of food and paid more attention to the actual words used, and then leveled a glare at the man standing across from him. "There is nothing wrong with Kaoru-dono's cooking, Saitou. This one was feeling ill, he was. That's all."

"Tch. If her cooking is anything like her tea, it's toxic." Saitou took a seat on the steps again, this time by the lantern a few steps above Kenshin's level. "Keep reading or I start pacing again."

Heaving an irritated sigh, Kenshin scanned the page for something aside from the main article that would have caught Saitou's attention. There was apparently a new fabric shop opening tomorrow, across the street from the toy store where the children had been shot earlier. He doubted that was something Saitou cared much about, but Kaoru might want to know. There wasn't a fabric store in all of Tokyo she hadn't dragged him into, usually with a half-hearted plea that he select fabric for a new gi.

He handed the page back to Saitou and paused at the next. 'Ezoshi Shinbun' was marked across the page in thick strokes surrounded by elaborate swirls, but he wouldn't have needed the title to identify it as Katsu's paper. This was the first of five sheets if the notice at the bottom was correct, and Kenshin had a good idea of what the next page held without needing to flip to it. He'd read one of Katsu's earlier papers, just after the night in front of the Department of Internal Affairs, and had decided he preferred the printed word without pictures. It was hard enough to read about a murder-suicide without seeing the graphic depiction in vivid detail sprawling colorfully across a full page. While he knew Katsu reported the good with the bad, the giggling babies and smiling newlyweds didn't quite balance out the armed robberies and rapes in Kenshin's mind.

And since his actions on the Ruffian Row were headline news regardless of the format of the newspaper, Kenshin turned to the next page with more than a little dread. Just as he'd expected, the bloody remains of several men were depicted scattered through a room, one of the bodies pinned to the wall. A busted shoji to one side revealed a neat stack of corpses out in an alley while a woman on the opposite side of the parchment looked on in shock. It lined up perfectly with what he remembered of the night, except that the woman's eyes were open, and he'd retrieved the wakizashi holding the hanging man to the wall.

"He was there?" Kenshin asked. Katsu lived nearby, he knew, but he didn't recall seeing the man while he'd been trapped on the roof. Of course, given his mental state at the time, he couldn't be sure that meant anything.

"He was one of the first reporters on the scene, with a sketchpad and charcoal." Saitou shifted on the stairs behind him. "This picture is interesting, I'll grant you that. I'm more interested in the text, though. Here and on the next page." He moved the lantern lower so Kenshin could make out the writing on the background of blood-smeared shoji.

It was more information than they'd put together in the record room, simplified and put into print. All fifteen of the victims were named, their crimes described or their positions as bodyguard listed. Katsu was treating the dead men as other reporters treated executed criminals, and he was pulling no punches in his assessment of Amano's politics.

Kenshin shook his head slowly in disbelieving horror. "He's going to get himself killed," he whispered. He knew about the government's preferred methods of controlling the flow of information, but he also had no illusions about the potential 'last resort' methods for the more stubborn sources of information. It was an assignment he'd refuse if he ever got it, and he imagined Saitou would likewise reject it. But there were others who would not be so picky, and it was an easy matter for an arrested man to disappear.

"Maybe he will, but not for that," Saitou assured him. "The government's had him watched since he first started printing that thing, and there's a standing policy of non-interference where Tsukioka 'Tsunan' is concerned. He's actually one of our better researchers, though his information is filtered through Meiji spies."

"_What?_" Kenshin twisted in his position to look up the stairs at Saitou. "That is not reassuring, Saitou. It's wrong to have a man followed like that."

The Miburo shrugged and motioned for him to turn the page. "The next sheet is what will get him in trouble."

Kenshin ripped the second page off the stack and gasped at the pair of glowing golden eyes that stared out from the paper. A heavily shadowed figure scrutinized the civilian-lined street below from its perch on the roof of a row house, its hair streaming in the wind and the hilts of its swords jutting out in sharp silhouette against the moon. A banner strung near the top of the page named it 'Taigi no Onryou' and dripped a thick stream of red down the margins to either side. Kenshin let out a shaky breath he hadn't been aware he was holding. "Kuso."

"I had a similar reaction," Saitou muttered. "And while your eyes were _not _actually amber on that rooftop, we should still be glad this 'Onryou' doesn't have bright red hair in that picture. I'm sure the man's figured it out already."

However upsetting he found the notion that his anonymity had been breeched, and possibly Saitou's, there was a much worse thought he couldn't avoid. If Katsu had put the pieces together successfully, he was a witness, whether he'd actually seen anything or not. Kenshin attempted speech several times before finally managing a strangled growl. "I won't do it, Saitou. I'm not killing Katsu."

"Tch. Neither am I. I _am_ going to talk to him, though." Saitou reached down to snatch the paper from him. "He's hailing this 'Onryou' of his as Japan's savior from the government's corruption. He has some very high praise for our work, both last night and earlier, but if he gets too close to the truth, Yamagata will have him dealt with. He needs to be warned at the very least."

Kenshin forced himself to be temporarily content that Saitou would handle the situation with Katsu. He was reasonably sure Saitou's warning would not involve violence, and Katsu's sense of self preservation was strong enough that the reporter wouldn't allow himself to step fully over the line of what the Meiji government would tolerate. He'd not reported on Shishio, after all. Just on this 'Onryou.' The name brought a frown to his face. "'Onryou,'" he groaned, indulging briefly in trivialities. "It's worse than Battousai, it is. At least Battousai has something to do with this one's actual skills."

Saitou chuckled. "Quite whining. Even as Battousai, people thought you were a demon. Now they're being honest about it. Even the police are nearly convinced the killer is demonic." He shrugged. "If we play it right, we won't need to explain our inability to catch the Slasher. Supernatural elements are just too slippery, and no one will expect us to catch the air. But we _do_ need a good reason why you weren't there last night."

"I _was_ there last night," Kenshin muttered with a wave at the parchment. "And apparently I was seen." There were many potential reactions to that statement available to Saitou, but Kenshin didn't expect an open palm to the back of his head until the blow had landed. He turned a bleary glare up the stairs. "What was that for?" Kenshin growled.

"If every animal in that zoo of a dojo does it, it must be at least somewhat effective," he responded with an eye roll. "Get your mind off the guilt and onto the practical. You were supposed to have been at the docks." Saitou calmly folded his arms across his chest and stared down at him, waiting for the first draft of a cover story.

Kenshin raised an eyebrow and tried to ignore the renewed intensity of his headache. "Zoo of a dojo?" he repeated icily.

Saitou refused to be distracted by the comment, and began rattling off the pieces of alibi they had at their disposal. "I talked to some folks who seem to recall someone sneaking around thereabouts. Provided your report features some stalking around the docks, it should be believable that you were in fact there. But it doesn't account for your absence at the row house or at the station afterwards."

"The docks are out of earshot from the Ruffian Row, Saitou. I couldn't possibly have heard whistles or shouts." Kenshin mentally reviewed the map of the dock area with its multitude of dark alleys and shadowed corridors. The docks were a hitokiri's dream location, better than the pleasure districts, even, for providing twisted streets and easy access. "Someone would have had to come get me," he continued, "and if I was using the shadows to hide, it would have been more than difficult for them to find me."

Saitou nodded. "Impossible, actually. But later that night, the man as famous for attention to detail as for a swiftly climbing victim count forgot to check in at the station?"

Kenshin wondered briefly at the compliment, but thought it best not to comment on it. "It was a late night," he said, adding superfluous details to this report in progress that he would have left out if reporting to superiors in Kyoto. "I was tired. Nothing happened on the docks and I found no trace of the Slasher. Around dawn, I got fed up with it and went home." Another thing he'd never have done in Kyoto, just abandoning an assignment because it was late and he was irritable. Still, this wasn't an official report, and despite the games his mind was playing on him, it wasn't Kyoto either.

He smiled, deciding that his and Saitou's well-observed personal dynamics would lend more credibility to the story. "While I wouldn't forget to check in, I _would_ skip out on you just to irritate you in retaliation for a boring, false lead. And that tip about the docks? Very boring. Very false." Kenshin shrugged. "How did you explain my absence today? And yours if you've been waiting here for long."

Saitou stared at him silently for a moment before nodding again. "That should work, provided no one looks too closely. You aren't typically irresponsible for the sake of irritating people, but it's understandable between us." He shuffled the papers together into a neater stack. "It was loud at the station. Lots of people wanting information. We couldn't get our work done in the midst of the commotion, so we took the day to research at home. I'll be doing the same tomorrow, because after handling the results of your work and sitting here all day waiting for you, frankly, I'm exhausted." Saitou looked up from the papers to glare at him before biting out another sentence that almost sounded gruffly concerned. "_You'll_ take tomorrow off to get over that concussion."

Kenshin rolled his eyes. "You didn't hit me that hard, Saitou."

"I'm referring to earlier." The wolf's expression was unreadable in the lamplight, and he didn't elaborate on the comment.

"Earlier?" Kenshin asked, trying to remember the last time he'd been hit. _After ruining Kaoru-dono's umbrella. The gunfight in the marketplace._ That was far too long ago to contribute to a concussion. "What are you talking about?"

Saitou smirked at him knowingly. "Exactly."

"What?"

"We've got to start including alibis when we make our plans, Battousai."

Kenshin shook his head and decided it wasn't worth it to try to understand the workings of Saitou's mind. There were much better things to devote his time to, and he'd hate to get lost in the frenzied turns. "Speaking of future planning, Saitou, do you have any ideas on our next target?"

"I thought about going after Tashiro for snooping, but the man's only an imbecile and not actually evil." Saitou sounded vaguely disappointed at this, and his return to seriousness was unmarked by a drastic shift in tone. "No, I'm taking the night off. I've got an assignment lined up I'll pass to you once the research is done. I don't want you tackling another two-person job on your own with such gusto. Last night was over the top even for Hitokiri Battousai."

Kenshin nodded, having thought much the same. He'd never taken down more than eight or nine at a time as a shadow hitokiri. Numbers much beyond that tended to attract witnesses to the scene as the targets called for help. He'd been more ambitious later, but only because there wasn't any danger in leaving witnesses. In the open, witnesses tended to be good things, as they increased the likelihood of his reputation doing damage to the opponents' morale in a fight. More importantly, while those who ran away spread news to demoralize the Bakufu, they were also faces he didn't have to add to his list of victims. Back in the shadows again, Kenshin couldn't afford witnesses, and therefore couldn't afford to attempt anything that large scale without adequate backup.

He looked up the stairs at his backup, and saw that Saitou was watching him closely, lost in his own reverie. Kenshin could practically see the calculations taking place, and only allowed a few more seconds of scrutiny before clearing his throat.

"What's so different this time, anyway?" Saitou asked, voicing his thoughts. "Between Tokyo and Kyoto," he clarified.

Kenshin blinked. "With Katsura-san, it was blind obedience, Saitou. He told me what to do, and I did it. At the time, I had no doubts about the justice behind his orders. This time I'm thinking about what I do."

"Tch. Thinking about it too much, you mean." He unfolded his arms and laced his fingers together, popping his knuckles. "Decide to act, and then act. That's all there is. There isn't a guilt stage when the job is done," Saitou said with a hint of derision in his voice. "You don't block out your actions while you perform them. You _embrace _those actions and there aren't any problems afterwards."

"There's a big problem with 'embracing' this job, Saitou," Kenshin argued. "It's soulless work. You can't embrace something like that without causing damage."

Saitou sighed, and turned his eyes upwards. "This isn't half as complicated as you're making it out to be." He returned his gaze to Kenshin and continued harshly. "You are going to murder people on the streets of Tokyo, or you're going to let _them_ murder people on the streets of Tokyo. Either way, the killing is going to happen." Saitou paused to let that sink in. "You and I are in the unique position of getting to decide whether the people who die are the ones who deserve it. It's really that simple."

"That's Aku Soku Zan, then?" Kenshin asked bitterly, shaking his head. The problem with that was that no one really deserved to die in the first place. "Kill them or let them kill others?"

"Slay Evil Immediately," he ground out. "Before it has a chance to fester. Before it has a chance to plan. Before it has a chance to hurt the innocent. The killing _will_ happen," he repeated. "People _will_ die. You can't stop it. All you can do is direct it."

Kenshin shifted on the stairs so that he wasn't facing Saitou any longer. He picked out the moon between a tangle of branches, and stared at it silently. On a purely logical note, he saw the truth in Saitou's words. He'd seen it before, too. But he really didn't want to believe those words, or the sentiment behind them. If Japan was so damaged that bloodshed was inevitable, there was no real way to save it. More bloodshed wouldn't do the trick, but neither would anything else. If Saitou was right, the only thing they were capable of doing about the problem was keeping it away from the innocent, and that would have to be enough.

Saitou's toe dug into his side sharply, prodding him back to the conversation. "The idealism you had in Kyoto was blind and stupid, Battousai, but not a bad thing. Misguided, yes. But necessary." He waited for Kenshin to look at him. "If you honestly don't think you're making a positive difference in the long run, then you have no business killing these guys. That's what ruins a good killer and turns him into a bloodthirsty madman. Lack of conviction."

Kenshin nodded, and used the pause to return to the bit about anchors. "Saitou, aside from tea and... company, how is Tokio anchoring you?"

The man's mouth actually dropped open for a moment before he closed it, blinked, and drew a cigarette from his pocket. He lit the cigarette in silence, tossed the match into the incense box, and took several long, slow draws, still looking vaguely as though he'd just heard Kenshin announce his hatred of children and lifelong desire to rule Japan.

Kenshin fought a smile at Saitou's reaction. _I did leave off the –dono_, he thought. _And the directness is probably a bit of a shock for him_. He decided to take pity on Saitou when it started to look as though he'd inhale the entire cigarette before a minute passed. "That is, how much does she know about what you actually do after dark?"

"She knows I kill people," Saitou rasped around a mouthful of smoke. With the addition of the cigarette, he seemed to be recovering himself. "She doesn't know who. She doesn't know where. She doesn't know which nights, even. But she knows why they die. Aku Soku Zan." He stared at the glowing end of his cigarette for a few moments. "That's as much a part of my job as patrolling the streets, Battousai. It isn't something extra that I do when needed. It's all one job."

"Which is why you prefer the police uniform," Kenshin guessed.

Saitou shook his head, taking a much briefer drag on the cigarette. "It's just easier than changing. I've modified my technique slightly to better suit the Western attire."

Kenshin considered that, juxtaposing his mental images of the gatotsu from Kyoto and more recently. There was a slight variation, but only someone with an eye for sword techniques and a deep familiarity with the specific maneuver would be able to tell. Either way, it was every bit as effective, if still repetitive. "I can keep details from my friends without a problem, Saitou. But unless I'm going to patrol the streets in the Choshu blue, they'll know which nights I'm working."

"You're working _every_ night. That's the point."

Kenshin shook his head. "They'll know the difference. Even if I didn't change into the Choshu-Shishi uniform, they'd see the blood."

"You could just bloody yourself up every night," Saitou suggested. "I can find assignments enough for it."

"Or I could switch anchors," Kenshin shot back, finally grumpy enough to retaliate. "Your wife seems to do a good job of it."

Saitou poked at him irritably with the cigarette, and Kenshin caught it between two fingers and snapped it in half, spilling some of the tobacco between his knuckles. He tossed the still-glowing stick into the incense box and blew the loose tobacco off his hand.

"Get some rest, Battousai. Figure things out, because I can't use you like this." He stood up, gathering papers and lantern as he did so. "And leave Tokio out of it."

Kenshin scowled, staying put but not craning his neck to address his words directly to his partner. "She _is_ out of it. You know me better than that, Saitou."

"Right." He blew out the candle in the lantern, letting the night back onto the stairs. "Someone will come by the dojo in the morning with some paperwork and a new Choshu uniform. Don't let the Kamiya girl chase him off."

"Why the new uniform?" Kenshin asked as Saitou made his way down to the stairs. He'd had only the one in Kyoto and it had been fine. He couldn't see a need for a second until the first was beyond repair.

Saitou stopped at the base of the stairs and looked back at him in the moonlight. "Numbers, Battousai. The men you've killed in a week would have taken you a little over a month in Kyoto. I doubt even you can keep the first uniform clean for long at this rate."

Kenshin watched him leave through the arch, and settled back against the narrow railing again. _It might be worthwhile to practice a few kata in the police uniform_, he thought. The uniform didn't constrict his movements all that much and he'd trained wearing monpei. It was more a matter of getting the feel for it again than learning to fight in the new attire from the beginning. With three police uniforms, he could reserve one for the nights while the other two remained presentable for the day. At the very least, there would be fewer problems if he was seen while scouting an assignment, since he was supposed to be on his rounds then anyway.

It occurred to him that he and Saitou had spent a good chunk of time out here, and that it was late. Kenshin stood and stretched, then chose the most direct route to the dojo and started walking, hoping the others weren't worried.

* * *

Wow, footnotes!

1. Ezoshi Shinbun: picture book newspaper. It's the name of Katsu's paper according to 'Rurouni Kenshin Profiles.' Some real life examples can be found at: 'http//members3. jcom .home .ne .jp /nishikie /index .html' after you take out the spaces and all that (please note that 'jcom' isn't a typo). Some of the content is a bit graphic, so pick and choose the articles you read based on what you think you can stomach.

2. An onryou is a revengeful ghost or apparition, usually a wronged person, who comes back to the physical world to exact revenge (though often not on the specific people who did the wrong). That chick from the Ring was one of these… just as an example. I've loosely translated taigi as a great cause, moral law, justice, etc. So the title Taigi no Onryou sort of implies that this revengeful ghost is fulfilling a great cause or upholding moral law… It's the kind of title Kenshin is bound to hate! [And many thanks to misaoshiru for explaining that little word in the middle. I was going for a vague connection, but with the added specific information I don't see a reason not to change it up. Thanks!]

3. Thank you again, Ashar, for your review. (The rest of you may want to avoid reading the remainder of this paragraph, as it could spoil things somewhat for you.) You raise several valid points, which I much appreciate. And so accurate! Right up to dear Shukuchi-chan, it's like you've read my notes. And there's more than enough to work with here without resorting to major character death, so don't fear on that note. And on Shukuchi-chan, thanks for the insights. Far from 'mindless ramblings,' really. Thanks.


	21. Chapter 21

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, the setting, the time period, or even the plot that has gone before. Also, I have no money. It will be a pointless effort in malicious spite to sue me over this piece of _fan fiction_.

Note: I'm not even going to dodge the rotten fruit and sharp objects this time. After over a year's worth of non-updates on this story, I deserve to have slimy cucumbers in my hair and all that. Many, many apologies to you guys, and here's hoping I can make it up to you. It's going to be a busy year in RL, but it's one of my resolutions for 2009 to actually finish this story. (Ironic, given the title, eh?)

Note the Second: I'm re-chaptering this so it's not so confusing anymore. So instead of Chapter One being the second chapter of the fic, it'll be the prologue. Er. I'm sure it will make more sense. Also tweaking some stuff throughout. No huge changes, though. Wording mostly, and some typos.

Note the Third: Thanks to all who have pestered me, and thanks for any tattered shreds of patience you have remaining. I'll shut up now.

* * *

Chapter 21

Kenshin found this return trip much easier than the miserable journey earlier in the afternoon. The vertigo had completely faded, and while his stomach wasn't happy with him yet, it wasn't at war with him either. In fact, only the headache remained—every bit as strong as before. He got the feeling it had settled in to stay, and that he'd better adjust for it.

A movement further ahead on the road perked his senses, and Kenshin found himself momentarily debating the merits of melting into the darkness to the side of the road. He shook his head and kept walking. Not many people traveled after dark, but those that did so on a main thoroughfare were rarely dangerous. Generally, they were simply in a hurry to get home or to an inn. Soon, the bubble of warm light from a travel lantern bobbed into view, and Kenshin nodded a greeting to the man who delivered firewood each month.

"You're out late, Himura-san," the man commented, stopping.

Kenshin nodded, plastering a smile across his face. "Aa. Even when this one is off duty, the work never ends."

The wood merchant laughed at that. "Well, real jobs take some getting used to, Himura-san." He began walking again, his steps livelier. "You can't be a carefree wanderer forever, you know," he called over his shoulder as the light faded into the distance with him.

Kenshin watched him go, waiting until the lantern's glow was entirely beyond sight and the moonlight filtered down through the leaves overhead. _Real jobs_. While it was true that his role as a policeman was an odd fit still, his real job was something he would rather not get used to again. Except that Saitou combined them both into a single job. He shook his head again and kept walking. He'd already been out late enough, and if the wood merchant had come again, he was doubly behind on chopping the firewood.

As he neared the gate, a cloud of worried ki seemed to envelop him. He looked up in time to see Kaoru running toward him, but before he could ask her what was wrong, she'd grabbed his hand and started dragging him to the porch where Megumi and the others were sitting anxiously. Kenshin opened his mouth to attempt his inquiry a second time, but Sano would have none of it.

"Where were you?" The fighter looked half dead from exhaustion, but managed to put quite a lot of irritation into his question nonetheless.

Kenshin frowned, sitting when Kaoru motioned for him to, but still surveying the nervous faces and anxious ki. Even Yahiko looked concerned, and the boy had been giving him the cold shoulder for a while now. _Kaoru-dono was the one to deliver the message, though_, he thought. _Surely she told everyone where I was_.

"Well?" Yahiko folded his arms over his chest and glared at him, his expression part challenge and part reluctant relief.

He blinked, and gestured back the way he'd come. "This one has been talking with Saitou at a little shrine just off the main road into town." Kenshin resisted the urge to rub at his temples. Why were people so intent on lecturing him today? "Why are all of you sitting on the porch worrying? There is no need for this," he insisted. "This one is not leaving."

"Oh, Ken-san," Megumi said, her voice trembling. "I'm so sorry. It was my mistake. That wasn't the medicine you were supposed to take, it was—"

"I'd gathered as much," he interrupted, trying to keep his tone light and his face free of a scowl and failing miserably. He forced the expression away and tried again with more success. "That was almost worse than the laughing mushrooms, it was."

Megumi bit her lip, and studied his face. "How are you feeling now?" she asked, picking up a candle from the porch and shining it in his eyes.

He winced and looked away from the light. "This one has a headache, Megumi-dono, and that isn't helping any."

"Well, you don't seem jaundiced," she replied, her expression relieved as she set the candle down again. "I need to ask you some questions, Ken-san, to make sure you're all right."

Kenshin sighed, resigning himself to several minutes of question-answer. He recalled the process well, both from seeing soldiers get questioned after head injuries and from occasionally being on the receiving side of such questioning himself during his training and later while he was with the Ishin Shishi. "Very well," he nodded, trying to remember what color he'd decided on as a favorite the last time he dealt with this. It invariably came up in these sessions and he'd found it was easier to have a ready answer than to like all colors indiscriminately.

"What is your full name?"

"Himura Kenshin," he answered.

Megumi nodded, and continued. "And the year?"

He glanced at Kaoru before answering. "1878."

"Okay. What city do you live in, Ken-san?"

"Tokyo."

Megumi nodded again, starting to lose some of the nervous energy that had been driving her before. "Tell me what happened to Shishio Makoto."

_He murdered the woman he loved_, Kenshin thought. _And the kami struck him down_. It was the truth, after all, condensed to its most important elements. But it wasn't an answer that would cut this short. "He fought with this one on Mt Hiei and lost," he finally answered. "Are you satisfied that this one has not yet lost his mind, Megumi-dono?"

She frowned. "I was. But your answers aren't always as quick as they should be. Name someone you work with here in Tokyo," she said.

"Saitou Hajime."

"And in Kyoto?"

"Misao-dono."

Megumi was quiet for a moment. "I meant before, Ken-san. This is to judge your temporal awareness."

Kenshin felt an uneasy shift in Kaoru's and Sano's ki, and wondered just how badly things had gone last night. Yahiko didn't seem to share their sharpened apprehension, so perhaps he'd been asleep by the time Kenshin had returned from the row house. He could only hope circumstances had spared the boy.

"Ken-san?" Megumi prompted.

He shook his head, slowly enough to avoid a faster tempo to the throbbing. "This one worked alone during the Bakumatsu," Kenshin said stiffly.

"You didn't have anyone you'd consider a comrade in arms?" she asked. "Out of all the Imperialist soldiers? Not one?"

Kenshin wondered why she seemed surprised by this. It would have taken a rare breed of man to want to work with a killer as cold and effective as he'd been at his worst. Even after, at Toba Fushimi, there were many in the Ishin Shishi who would risk a few moments in the line of fire to avoid him.

Sano shifted against the wall, and Kenshin realized he'd been quiet too long again. He slipped on a smile and put a hand on the back of his head with a chuckle he didn't feel. "Gomen, Megumi-dono. This one was not easy to get along with back then, he most certainly wasn't." Another truth, in essence. Even Katagai-san had had difficulty interacting with him aside from taking reports and giving orders.

"I…" she trailed off. "Well try to think of someone, Ken-san. In the meantime, your favorite food."

He almost said 'yellow' before hearing the actual question. This was a new one. "Oro?"

Megumi looked over at Kaoru and smiled slyly. "I can see why you wouldn't have much experience with good food lately, Ken-san, but surely you have a favorite from before you came here?" She laughed behind a hand as Kaoru pushed up her sleeves with a scowl.

Kenshin felt the first genuine smile in a long time, and didn't fight it. "Now, now," he said, grateful to return to a simpler role as peacemaker. "This one enjoys Kaoru-dono's cooking, he does."

Kaoru brightened, and stuck her tongue out at Megumi. "Ne, Kenshin? What's your favorite, then? We can have it tomorrow for dinner."

Taking note of Sano's and Yahiko's exchanged grimaces, Kenshin shrugged. "This one's never been too partial, Kaoru-dono. But he does enjoy fish." Hopefully his stomach would be cooperative by dinner time tomorrow, or he'd have a lot of explaining to do. He'd already refused too many meals as it was, and he hated worrying Kaoru and the others.

Megumi let out a deep breath and brushed her hair back over her shoulders. "Well, Ken-san, it seems you'll be fine. That headache shouldn't have lasted this long, but you _have_ been under a lot of stress lately." She looked over at Sano briefly before turning her attention back to him. "And you haven't been sleeping well. It shows." Megumi reached into a sleeve and produced a small cloth pouch, which she placed in Kenshin's hand. "This is what you were supposed to take. After tonight, I want you to take this regularly."

Kenshin regarded the bag in his hand as he would a snake. "But Megumi-dono—"

"No buts," she interrupted. "You can't do your job if you're tired all the time, and with that killer out there you need all your wits about you, Ken-san. Especially on these night patrols. Who knows what could happen if you slip up and Saitou isn't around for backup?"

Kenshin counted his blessings that Megumi didn't know how close to home her words struck. From the apprehension radiating from Sano and Kaoru, though, they had a much better idea about last night's assignment. Perhaps they'd read the papers. No, they'd had Saitou's message, so the wolf had been to the dojo while he slept. How much had Saitou told them?

Megumi stood and covered a yawn with the back of a hand. "Take tomorrow off. You need to try to stay awake tonight so we can be sure the side effects are gone. But starting tomorrow night, half a dose in water. Every night. Understand?" She waited until Kenshin nodded, and then addressed Sano. "You stay home, too, Sanosuke. I need to spend the day restocking the medicines, and you'll be more hindrance than help. Look after Ken-san."

"Sure thing," he mumbled, waving a hand to show he understood, but otherwise not moving from his position slumped against the wall. "I'll watch him." His eyes drifted shut as he finally yielded to exhaustion.

Shaking her head, Megumi raised her eyebrows at Kaoru, who nodded. Satisfied that someone would be looking after Kenshin during the night, she said her goodbyes and closed the gate behind herself.

"Are you hungry, Kenshin?" Kaoru asked, sitting forward with a smile. "We saved some rice balls from dinner…"

He held back a shudder and set the bag of medicine aside and leaned back against one of the support posts to help hide the motion. "It's true this one's feeling a little better, Kaoru-dono, but let's not risk it tonight, okay?" Kenshin watched her face fall, and wished he was feeling up to food just to make her happy again. That made the third meal he'd turned down now, and he could tell it worried her more than it would most.

"Oh," she murmured, her eyes on her hands.

"Some water would be nice, though," Kenshin suggested, watching her closely. "If it isn't too much trouble."

Kaoru looked up again and got to her feet in a hurry. "Right!" she exclaimed, dashing off to the kitchen.

Kenshin smiled and kicked his zori off before pulling his legs up. He wasn't thirsty in the least bit, but seeing her perk up like that was worth drinking the water she'd gone to fetch.

"I was worried," Yahiko said once she was gone, his voice soft but full of accusation.

Kenshin looked over at him. Given Yahiko's reaction on seeing the daisho and the silent treatment he'd given him since, Kenshin hadn't expected much beyond broody glares yet. But Yahiko seemed willing to talk. "You shouldn't worry about this one, Yahiko," he said, grateful for whatever reprieve he'd been granted. "Instead, focus on your training, and on helping the people in town."

Yahiko folded his arms over his chest. "I'm still worried, Kenshin." He glanced at Sano, and kept his voice soft but still firm. "And I still say you're doing the wrong thing."

Kenshin sighed. "I know. This one is glad you have strong convictions, and that you aren't giving them up." _Sano must really be asleep_, he thought, _or he'd have smacked Yahiko for the challenge and me for the 'unworthy talk.'_

"Are you even still Kenshin, now that you're killing people again?"

He heard a note of subdued desperation in Yahiko's voice, and fought back another sigh. He'd been doing that too much lately. He needed to stop. "I've made many mistakes in my life, Yahiko," he admitted. "And it's true that this may be another one. But at least you will have this one's mistakes to learn from." It was about all he could offer at the moment, though he wished it weren't so.

"I guess so." Yahiko rubbed his eyes with both fists, clearly fighting off sleep. "But I still don't agree with this."

"Good," Kenshin replied. He didn't fully agree with it, either.

"What can I do to make you stop, Kenshin?"

He shook his head. "Gomen. This one's mind is made up, Yahiko." And even if it weren't, he doubted he'd be allowed to put the killing sword aside again so easily as the last time. "But you're welcome to try," he offered. He pretended not to see the yawn Yahiko tried to hide. "You should get some sleep if you're going to train tomorrow. You'll get more out of your lessons if you're well rested, that you will."

Yahiko got up, using the wall for support, but hesitated before going in. "Are you still going to be at the dojo in the morning?"

"Aa." Kenshin motioned for him to go in. "Goodnight, Yahiko."

"'Night, Kenshin."

Kaoru waited until Yahiko was inside before joining Kenshin on the porch. She handed him a mug of water, and set the pitcher she'd brought down beside herself. "I'm sorry for listening in, Kenshin," she said. "It's just that, well, I was sure Yahiko would storm off if I'd been here. He's been so moody lately."

"Yahiko is at a moody age," Kenshin replied. He took a sip of water, and nodded his thanks. "He's a good kid, Kaoru-dono, and his idealism is very similar to this one's own, once. He won't make the mistakes this one made as a youth." _Especially not if he pays close attention to the results_. He wondered vaguely whether he'd have listened to Hiko if his warning had come with an example. It hardly mattered at the moment, though. Done was done. And redone.

"Kenshin?"

He looked up from his mug, detecting a hesitation that didn't suit her. "Yes, Kaoru-dono?"

She glanced down for a moment, then back up at him. "Last night…" She took a deep breath. "You didn't recognize me, Kenshin. It's been worrying me."

"Sano said that this one didn't see you the first night, either." He ran a finger along the rim of his mug. "Gomen, Kaoru-dono. That shouldn't have happened." So the introduction earlier had been necessary, at some point. That wasn't a good sign. He had to figure out this anchor business soon.

Kaoru shook her head. "No, Kenshin. I mean you didn't know who I was." She tried to say something, then swallowed. "You called me Tomoe, Kenshin."

He very nearly dropped his water, and only a quick fumble saved the mug from slipping from his fingers entirely. Kenshin watched the surface of the water ripple from the motion as he tried to gather the thoughts that had run off in a thousand directions. He felt pressure on his arm, and looked over to see Kaoru's hand resting on the crook of his elbow. He resisted the urge to shake her away for her own safety, knowing such an action would only hurt her more.

"I'm not upset, Kenshin," Kaoru said, her voice betraying a very different sentiment as it drifted through his mind. "I was at first. But that was just silly."

_Kuso_, he thought. _This means that last night was bad. Worse than I had imagined_. He tried to unclench his jaw, to relax his shoulders. It would not do to worry Kaoru unnecessarily, and he got the feeling he was doing just that. She wasn't afraid to touch him, so he couldn't have been violent. The rationalization wasn't helping.

"You're staring again. That's what you did last night, Kenshin. After I shook you out of it."

Kenshin forced himself to take a deep breath as he forced some of his worst nightmare images out of his head. The water was still rippling in his mug, and he realized his hands were shaking. He had never wanted to bring this up. Not with anyone. Especially not with people who had accepted him. Especially not Kaoru. Her words slowly sank in, and the cold ball of unease in his stomach sent feelers up his spine.

"…sh-shook this one out of it?" he whispered. _Oh,_ _kami-sama_. Visions all that could have gone wrong danced across his mind.

She nodded. "I had to. You were talking about bars and ninjas, and we couldn't get you to understand that you weren't in Kyoto."

He managed to loosen his jaw enough to take a sip of water before starting to speak, but then changed his mind and settled for more water instead. Her hand felt hot on his arm, and he tumbled options around in his head for a moment. It was too much to think about at this exact moment. The important things were clear enough, though.

"This one is very sorry, Kaoru-dono. If…" he paused, forced himself to meet her eyes. "If this one is like that again, it would be better if you didn't… do anything like that." He watched her expression shift from relief to confusion. "It's dangerous, Kaoru-dono," he clarified softly. "_I'm _dangerous."

She shook her head, her hand tightening its grip on his arm. "You would never hurt me, Kenshin."

Her confidence in this supposed fact was almost more painful than the rest. "Not intentionally," he conceded. He felt exposed, found himself struggling not to look away, not to flip his hair over his eyes as a tangible barrier between them. Instead, he kept his chin up so she could see the emotions he allowed his eyes to convey. "This one would never mean to harm you, Kaoru-dono. But you could get hurt anyway, that you could. Please don't put yourself in danger like that again. Promise me."

He watched her carefully, sat still as she scanned his face. His tone must have gotten at least a little of the danger across, because she nodded slowly, as though considering something.

"I promise, Kenshin." She settled her back against the post at a right angle to him, but didn't release her grip. Her other hand reached over as well, and she threaded her fingers together in the crook of his arm.

Kenshin closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the post. She'd promised. That would have to do for now. At least the other had been dropped for the moment. He doubted he would be lucky enough to escape the conversation indefinitely, though. He'd been lucky to escape it this long, in fact. The only time he'd so much as approached the topic was with Katsura-san before he'd set the fire. Kenshin opened his eyes to stare at the beams above. Even then, the man had learned all the facts by the time he arrived in Otsu and Kenshin hadn't needed to say much.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Kaoru's ribbon droop over the pink of his gi as her head settled on his shoulder. He felt bad keeping her awake so late. Her and everyone else. "Kaoru-dono," he whispered, touching the back of her hand.

"Mmph," she murmured, still mostly asleep.

He shifted, getting to his feet and pulling her up by her hands. "You should be getting to bed, that you should. It's very late."

She yawned, and rubbed at one eye. "But if you have to stay up all night, you shouldn't have to do it alone, Kenshin."

"Kaoru-dono must be well rested when teaching tomorrow, that she must." Kenshin gently turned her toward the door. "How would it look for Kamiya Kasshin if the assistant master was yawning through her lessons?"

"Oh, all right." She paused in the doorway, and looked back to ask a question. "Ne, Kenshin?"

"Go to bed, Kaoru-dono," he said. "This one will be here in the morning."

Kaoru looked at him for a moment, then sighed. "Goodnight."


	22. Chapter 22

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, the setting, the time period, or even the plot that has gone before. Also, I have no money. It will be a pointless effort in malicious spite to sue me over this piece of _fan fiction_.

Note: This is actually the first part of what turned out to be a way too long chapter. I figured it was better to just hack it in half while I worked on the second part of it.

* * *

Chapter 22

Kenshin stood on the porch, listening to Kaoru's steps and waiting for the soft thud of the shoji closing behind her for the night. For the first time in what seemed like longer than it could have been, he was alone. He glanced to the side, where Sano was sprawled up against the wall, and revised the reflection. Mostly alone, then. Alone enough. He almost hadn't noticed how much the crush of people was getting to him until the crowd had started to dissipate.

His friend stirred against the planks, his head flopping from one side to the other as he subconsciously struggled to get more comfortable. Kenshin smiled, the tiny withdrawn smile that always made others worry, even though it sometimes came more naturally to him than the other one. He wondered whether Sano had gotten any rest at all lately. Between helping at the clinic and pulling late nights at the dojo, he likely hadn't been sleeping any more than Kenshin himself. Kenshin didn't know how to feel about that. Guilt and gratitude were always a hard pair to manage.

_Anchors_, he thought. Going insane was a poor way to repay Sano for his efforts, and that one word was all he had to go by. That and 'embrace the killing,' which really wasn't an option, regardless of well it worked for Saitou. Kenshin looked out over the yard, noticing the pile of wood left by the merchant earlier that evening. He didn't feel much like chopping wood, but it was a chore that had to be done, and he had the rest of the night to do it in. The only other chores that presented themselves were laundry and yard work, and both ran a greater risk of waking Sano.

Shrugging off both guilt and the fatigue creeping back into his limbs, Kenshin reached into his gi for the string to tie back his sleeves, and headed around to the back of the dojo to the older woodpile. He'd move the newest wood back here later, but for now, there was plenty of work to occupy him—nearly two weeks' worth—and far enough away from the sleeping areas not to be bothersome.

There had to be an answer. Saitou said he was making it more complicated than necessary. Fine. What was the simple answer, then? Kenshin knelt at the woodblock and jerked the hatchet loose before setting up the first of the logs. It couldn't be simply that death was a given and he could either direct it or stand back. There was something more palatable, he was sure. Something that would still keep things from falling apart.

He bundled the cut logs and then dragged the next batch over, rubbing his eyes with his free hand. It incensed Saitou that he'd exhibited so little restraint last night, but it terrified Kenshin. Such a thing wouldn't have happened in Kyoto, even after he'd left the shadows, because, if nothing else, recklessness would have been frowned on. Had the external restraint Katsura-san exerted been the only thing keeping him from becoming like Jin-e or Shishio? Was he not all that different inside, where it mattered?

Kenshin shook his head and nudged a stubborn half-log off of the block with the back of the hatchet. No. Jin-e had reveled in the killing, and Shishio in the chaos and blood. Those things were revolting to him. He'd survived it by distancing himself before, but that wasn't possible here. And disgust and self-loathing weren't enough to keep him grounded. In fact, if learning the ougi had taught him anything, it was that they would be more damaging than the blood in the long run. He reached for a log and his hand met with air. Kenshin retrieved yet another bundle of wood.

_No_, he thought as he knelt again, pushing exhaustion to the back of his mind. _Revulsion won't be enough if I get complacent about the killing again_. But how to keep doing this job and not eventually become indifferent to the deaths he caused? In Kyoto he'd been close to losing himself before Tomoe came along. Or maybe he'd already lost himself. Whichever, it had cost too much to undo that damage.

Kaoru's words came back to him. If he was so far gone as to confuse Kaoru and Tomoe once, what was to say he wouldn't confuse them again, and to potentially much worse results? The two women couldn't have been more different, but… he let out a tired breath and buried his head in his arms, knocking the latest log to the ground un-split. This was just all too much.

......

_The assignment made no sense, but he was nothing if not obedient to Katsura-san. If he was told to stalk through a snowy forest in search of his target, then that was what he'd do. There were no questions because there was no need for them. His commander, no doubt, knew best in this case, and so he didn't flinch when the forest gave way to a well-worn road, which in turn became a paved walkway leading toward a building._

_This target was well-protected. Already he'd encountered dozens of bodyguards wearing the faces of victims long since slain on other assignments. Another wave of doomed swordsmen crashed against him, and he this time he found himself faltering, unable to advance despite their relative lack of skill._

_A movement in his peripheral vision caught his attention, a flutter of yellow sleeves. Before he could turn to look, the men across from him parted, and a new opponent stepped forward and challenged him to a match. It was his target, tired finally of running from tenchuu. They exchanged blows, each directing their swords in eerily similar movements._

_He saw an opening, took it, and found as his blade cut through muscle and bone that the yellow sleeves had somehow fallen into his face. His target fell to the ground, blood pooling around him, but his sword was somehow not free of the body yet._

"_I'm so happy…"_

_The words drifted up to him from a sea of yellow fabric, steadily blooming a dark red where his_ _sword had struck. He looked down at a smiling Kaoru who had collapsed beside his target and gripped the blade in one hand while struggling to speak._

"_I've finally been useful to you, Kenshin."_

......

It was his own strangled yell that woke him, and he hurled the hatchet out across the back yard before rational thought caught back up to him. He didn't bother trying to control his breathing, but settled instead for short, panicked gasps that burned his lungs. The amount of light in the yard told him that dawn was still over an hour off, and he felt a desperate need to be elsewhere.

The hatchet gleamed in the moonlight several yards away, and Kenshin entertained the stray thought that he should replace it in the block before gathering the rest of the split logs into bundles. He made no move to do so. Just the anticipation of such a motion, of the resistance the chopping block would offer, sent his mind spinning back to the nightmare, to its inspiration.

_No_, he thought. _There cannot be another Tomoe_. Kenshin untied the string from around his torso, allowing the sleeves of his gi to fall back over his arms. He could not let that happen here, even if he did drown in the blood.

* * *

Sano groaned and sat up, rubbing at his back with one hand as he searched for his candle with the other. When he encountered no candle, or even a book of matches, he opened bleary eyes to look around his room and discovered he'd spent the night out on the porch instead. _Huh. Well that explains the soreness, anyway_. He stared up at the tree line and saw the first hints of dawn starting to glow at the edges of the leaves. Strangely, there was no accompanying smell of breakfast.

_Oh, right_, he thought. _I was supposed to make sure Kenshin didn't fall asleep tonight_. Sano rubbed his eyes before dragging himself to his feet. Surely someone else had taken over that task. Someone who'd slept in the last twenty-four hours. He stretched, and glanced around the yard, trying not to think about the last time he'd surveyed the place at this time of day. There was no sign of Kenshin, but the wood was gone.

"Huh." Sano stepped off the porch and strolled around to the back, where he was sure he'd find two weeks' worth of chopped firewood and an exhausted redhead. Instead, he saw a few neat bundles and a great deal of split logs still unbundled in an otherwise empty yard. He stopped and frowned, then picked up the hatchet and walked over to the block where it should have been housed. He couldn't think of many harmless reasons for Kenshin to have stopped before finishing the chore, and none for him to have thrown the hatchet.

His frown turned into a glare. _There had better be a note, Kenshin, or you're in for a world of hurt_. Sano walked to the kitchen and peeked in. No evidence of cooking, and no note. His eye twitched. There was only so much of this sort of nonsense he could be expected to put up with, and if Kenshin thought it was okay to just disappear without a word, he had another thing coming to him.

Sano remembered how irritable Kenshin had seemed last night when asked about his time in Kyoto. The lag time after what should have been easy questions. He got a sudden bad feeling in his gut and dashed around to the porch again before making his way as silently as possible to Kenshin's room. There was no sense in waking the other two unless his fear was backed up by evidence.

He slid the shoji open and was more relieved to see the dark blue Choshu uniform and daisho than he'd ever thought he'd be. _So. Kenshin's not out on some last minute assignment. And the travel bag's there too, so he hasn't up and left again_. Sano's fist clenched at his side at the last thought. That was good. Kenshin _did_ know better than to take off wandering again after the Kyoto stunt. So he wasn't gone. He'd be back.

Sano drew the shoji closed and went back out to sit on the porch. The sun was up now, a sliver of it showing above the trees. Kenshin hadn't gone for good, and he hadn't left a note. Now that Sano thought about it logically, he guessed that Kenshin didn't expect anyone to be awake before he got back.

Sano was half finished tying all the loose wood together when he heard the gate open softly. He looked up as Kenshin rounded the corner, sopping wet and smiling softly. The man was clearly exhausted, but somehow calmer, more at ease than he'd been in weeks. Sano stood up, putting his hands on his hips. "Where's my note, Kenshin?"

"Oro?" Kenshin's eyes darted back to the kitchen and sleeping areas, and then back to Sano. "Gomen, Sano. This one thought he'd be back before he was missed. You looked very tired." He picked his way around the wood Sano had inexpertly bundled, leaving a trail of puddles in his wake. "Thank you for working on the wood," he murmured.

Sano looked him over, noting the loose hair for the first time. "You go for a swim or something?"

Kenshin shook his head, sending out a spray of water droplets from his bangs. "Kata." He gestured back toward the gate. "Down by the river." Slipping the sakabatou out of his sash, he settled on one of Sano's messier wood bundles, apparently waiting for Sano to finish gathering the wood up.

_Well, it looks like it did him some good_, Sano thought. He stooped to pick up an errant log. He decided not to ask why he couldn't have run through a few kata here at the dojo. No doubt Kenshin had had his reasons. "You didn't sleep any, did you?" He saw Kenshin shake his head again, bemused. "Are you tired?"

"Not really."

Sano snorted at what they both knew was a blatant lie. "Right." Still, he was happy enough to see Kenshin looking relaxed that he wasn't about to press the issue and risk undoing whatever the practice by the river had done. "Well in that case, I'm hungry. And you better be hungry, too, or Jou-chan's going to be upset."

"Aa." Kenshin jumped up from the woodpile with more energy than he should have had after staying up the whole night and being dosed with what had turned out to be an anesthetic the night before. "Would you like anything in addition to some miso and rice?"

He thought about it. "Nah. Just put something good in the rice balls." Sano went back to his task for a moment before he noticed that Kenshin was still standing there. He looked up, alert. "What's wrong?"

"No, no. Nothing's wrong, Sano." Kenshin held his hands out in front of him to fend off the concern. "Saitou said he was going to send a messenger with some paperwork. Would you keep an eye out for him?"

"I thought you weren't working today." Sano seemed to recall hearing that last night, but it didn't hurt to check.

Kenshin nodded. "Aa. But there's always paperwork."

Sano narrowed his eyes. "All right. As long as it's _just_ paperwork." He watched Kenshin turn the corner and sent a mental curse at the squinty-eyed psycho cop. Taking the day off to do work at home wasn't taking the day off at all. _It had better be a short stack of paper_, he thought.

It turned out to be a large stack, and accompanied by a neatly folded and wrapped Choshu uniform. Sano watched the messenger leave and glanced over his shoulder toward the kitchen, where he could hear Kenshin humming softly. He knew something was going on, but he wasn't sure what. Lately, Kenshin had been easier to see through, but this morning he was back to his old, opaque cheerfulness. It was comfortingly familiar, but Sano suspected it was hiding something.

Rather than go straight to Kenshin with the package, Sano sat down on the porch to rifle through it. He couldn't feel any messages hidden in the uniform, and there weren't any stray envelopes in the stack of papers either. He read a couple of lines every few pages. It was pretty dull reading, from what he could tell. Seemingly random reports on various people's political affiliations, on where they'd shopped in the last month, what they'd purchased, and for what price. There were transcriptions of old newspaper articles, tallies of employees at various warehouses, and what had to be the most exhaustive list of army and police force recruits he'd ever seen. By the time he'd flipped to the end, he was about ready to fall off the porch from boredom. If this was what Kenshin did all day while not on rounds, Sano was doubly glad he got to spend his days at the clinic instead.

He reassembled the package and stood up to stretch, careful not to drop the parcel. From the smells, breakfast was nearly ready. Sano rapped a knuckle against the doorframe and held up the package when Kenshin turned to look at him, now dressed in the police garb, minus the gloves, the shoes, and the hat Sano still hadn't managed to catch a glimpse of. "What's with the outfit? You aren't working."

"The only other dry clothing this one has is the Choshu blue, Sano."

Sano looked down at the clothing he carried. "Right." Well that made sense. Between the two uniforms, Sano had to admit he'd rather see Kenshin look like a cop than an active hitokiri. He waved the package. "Where do you want it?"

"By this one's tray would be fine, Sano. And then if you'd wake the others, please?" Kenshin scooped up the last of the rice. "This will be ready in just a few minutes, that it will."

Sano nodded, and dropped the papers and uniform where Kenshin normally sat for meals, back when they'd all eaten together. It turned out he didn't have to get Kaoru up after all. She was already seated in her usual place, looking tired still, but smiling. Sano found himself wondering what exactly had happened after he'd fallen asleep last night for everyone to suddenly be so laid back and … well, normal. It was starting to make him uneasy.

He'd just opened his mouth to yell for Yahiko when he saw the shoji open down the hall and a rumpled head of black hair poke out through the gap with a yawn. The kid stumbled into the room, still rubbing his eyes with his fists. "Heh," Sano chuckled, flattening Yahiko's hair with an open palm. "Morning, sleepy." Yahiko just growled at him and bit back another yawn while Kaoru laughed.

Sano grinned again and returned to the kitchen to help bring in the food. Though he hadn't asked for anything but the basics, Kenshin had skipped forming the rice into neat spheres and fried up the tofu from last night's culinary misadventure instead. It smelled much better the second time, and Sano wondered what Kenshin had done to save it.

They'd half finished the meal before Sano realized that Yahiko was even quieter than he'd been the last few days. Sano looked over at him, and saw him glaring at the packaged papers, or rather, at the uniform next to them.

As if Sano's attention had been a signal, Yahiko sighed and set his bowl down with a thud. "What you're doing is wrong," he muttered, shifting his eyes from the papers to Kenshin.

Sano growled and clenched a fist, leaning over to smack him.

"Stop it, Sano," Kenshin reprimanded, not looking up from his food. "Yahiko is right." He plucked a piece of tofu from his tray and continued eating as though nothing had happened, apparently oblivious to the shocked silence that followed his words.

Yahiko turned his glare to Sano and rubbed his head. "See? Even he knows it's wrong. What's making you two so blind?"

"Yahiko," Kaoru breathed, her eyes wide.

He got to his feet roughly, ignoring her and folding his arms over his chest. "You're both hopeless. I'm better off spending my days at the Akabeko," he muttered, spinning around and stalking off.

"Yahiko!" Kaoru stood and pushed up the sleeves of her gi. "You get—"

Sano grabbed the edge of her hakama to stop her. "Ah, just let him go, Jou-chan." He had a feeling whatever was bothering Yahiko wouldn't be solved by a bokken to the head. He'd talk some sense into the kid later, for everyone's sake. "He probably just needs to let off some anger," he reassured her, motioning for her to sit back down.

"But—"

"And you!" Sano turned back to level a glare at Kenshin. "What do you mean, just sitting there like you deserve that kind of talk?" he demanded. "What did I tell you about that 'I'm unworthy' attitude of yours?"

Kenshin put down his rice. "Sano, the decision this one made was not necessarily the _best_ decision. It was just… the decision he made."

"You're having second thoughts?" Sano wasn't sure how to react to that. On the one hand, it would be nice to really go back to the way things were before, but he doubted the government would be too happy about it. While he didn't care whether they liked it or not, they'd make things difficult if Kenshin tried to back out.

"Second thoughts?" Kenshin repeated. He shrugged. "Yes and no." Seeming to realize that neither Sano nor Kaoru would be satisfied with the answer, he continued. "This one is sure there is a better way to solve the current problems, that there is. It's just that this one can't see it right now." Kenshin sighed. "I've never been able to watch people suffer and do nothing about it. It's gotten this one in trouble, before, too."

That seemed to be the extent to which Kenshin was willing to talk about it, and Sano thought it best to let the subject drop if that was what the other man wanted. He'd been forthcoming enough, if a bit vague. Most importantly, he hadn't seemed to be wallowing in self-hate like he had been earlier. With a whole day ahead of them and no real distractions, he had plenty of time to work his way to the heart of the matter. No sense in pushing too hard too soon. _And now to set up this day without distractions_. No doubt Kaoru would back him up on it, too.

"Well," Sano said briskly, "if Yahiko is going to spend the day at the Akabeko, we'll just spend it fishing. It serves him right to miss out on it."

"Oro?" Kenshin glanced at the paperwork at his side.

Kaoru leaned forward, seeming to get the hint. "I'm making fish tonight, right, Kenshin?" She stacked the empty dishes on her tray before looking back up at him. "Why go into town and buy it when we can relax by the river together?"

Sano jabbed a finger in Kenshin's direction. "And that bastard cop can't overwork you if he can't find you! We'll pack a ton of food and take our time out there. The whole day, even."

"But, Sano, Kaoru-dono agreed to take over classes today for Maegawa-san, since he had to visit family in Mito."

Kaoru looked over at Sano and shrugged an apology before turning back to Kenshin with an encouraging smile. "Well then you and Sano go, at least. We'll all relax on the porch later."

"Yeah," Sano agreed. "Why are you trying to get out of it?"

Kenshin looked from Kaoru to Sano, and gave up. "Okay."

* * *

More Notes: I swear Yahiko's not trying to be mean! Kenshin _did _issue an invitation to try and change his mind, after all. And I'm almost done with the second half of this chapter, so it shouldn't take a month.


	23. Chapter 23

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, the setting, the time period, or even the plot that has gone before. Also, I have no money. It will be a pointless effort in malicious spite to sue me over this piece of _fan fiction_.

Notes: Well, though it's sort of more Ch 22b, I'm going to just call it Ch 23. It's long enough to be on its own.

* * *

Chapter 23

Sano sucked in a deep breath and let it out in a rush. The last of summer's heat was on the way out, and the walk to the river had been accompanied by a welcome breeze. He scooped up some water in one of the buckets they'd brought, and set it on a level area nearby. Any fish they caught would get dumped in the bucket to stay fresh until dinner. He reached out to grab a hook and some of the bait they'd brought out of the second bucket, and found Kenshin holding it out to him.

"Bet I catch more than you do, Kenshin," he challenged with a grin.

Kenshin met his expression with a small smile of his own, and sat down next to him. "You most certainly will, Sano. Especially since this one does actually have to do his paperwork."

Sano rolled his eyes and tossed the baited hook out into the water. "Oh, come on. How serious could it be, anyway? It's just a bunch of spy reports or something."

A red eyebrow twitched upwards. "And you would know this because you read it, Sano?"

He hunched his shoulders defensively and kept his eyes on the water. "Not read it, exactly. But flipped through it, yeah." Sano jerked a thumb toward the stack of parchment at Kenshin's side. "Pretty pointless, if you ask me. Busy work. Let Saitou do it."

Kenshin chuckled, and lifted the stack to his lap. "Saitou has his own paperwork, Sano."

"Does he," Sano muttered. He wondered what the point was of reading all the reports. With a government as full of two-faced politicians as this one, it was useless to keep track of what seemed like a random dozen or so. Even if the two of them ran through the whole bureaucracy, the likelihood of people's shopping lists being of any value was slim.

The line in his hand twitched, and Sano twitched it back, hoping to hook a fish before it made off with the bait unharmed. No luck. He left the line out there anyway, and snuck a glance over at Kenshin. The man was frowning slightly at a line of text on the second page, his demeanor now unguardedly serious, bordering on grim.

Sano drew the line back in and inspected the hook before throwing it out over the water again. He didn't think he was wrong about this morning. Kenshin might have gotten some peace doing kata out here, but not enough to be genuinely humming in the kitchen. Not if he'd thrown that hatchet across the yard. Not if he was this serious as soon as Sano turned his attention elsewhere. He was definitely hiding something. Something that bothered him enough that he'd wanted to leave the dojo. And Kenshin pulling it all back inside, like he did before Kyoto… Sano got the impression it was deliberate, and that if he left it alone too long, the distance would be too established to get rid of again.

"Would you tell me?"

Kenshin looked up from his work, confused. "Oro?"

Sano caught his eyes and somehow managed to hold them. "If there was something wrong, or something I could help with, or something I could do... Hell, if there was something you just needed to talk about, even, would you tell me?"

He didn't get an answer immediately, and Sano was almost glad for that as he watched his friend shift his gaze to study the far shore. It meant Kenshin was really thinking about it, and that meant he'd get an honest answer. Or at least one that wasn't _instinctually_ evasive.

"Sano, with this job…" Kenshin trailed off for a moment, then seemed to decide on a different start. "In most ways that matter, Sano, this one has become a hitokiri in the shadows again. There's a mentality that goes with that, by necessity. Things you can't be involved in. Things you can't see, or shouldn't know." He paused. "Things that would be dangerous for you."

It was hard, but Sano managed to hold his tongue when Kenshin didn't promptly follow up on the last bit. After being around Kenshin this long, he could usually tell whether the other man was mentally weighing alternatives or just stalling, and while he might want to object to being kept in the dark or clarify that he wasn't asking about the details of his assassinations, Sano knew that this time at least he'd get more in the long run if he let Kenshin plan his words uninterrupted.

"For other things," Kenshin finally continued, drawing out each word as though it was a foreign concept, "if you want me to depend on you, Sano, then I will try to do so whenever it's feasible."

Sano nodded. It was what Kenshin had agreed to do before, only he hadn't been doing it. A simple rephrasing wasn't exactly what Sano had been looking for, but it was a step in the right direction. An invitation, as it were, though he doubted Kenshin saw it that way. He jerked the line and wrestled a fish out of the water and into the bucket before re-baiting the hook and casting it. "All right, Kenshin," he said, figuring he'd let the man think enough. "Let's test that."

"What?"

_Was that a hint of nervousness?_ Sano turned so he was facing Kenshin instead of the river. "What's been eating you today, Kenshin? You've got a wall up ten feet high and plenty thick. I want in."

"Sano…"

"Are you gonna trust me or not, Kenshin?" It sounded more like a challenge than a question, but then, that's how he meant it, so that was fine. Sometimes, one just had to apply a little pressure, and phrasing it as a trust issue was the sort of pressure Kenshin responded to best. _Aside from guilt, that is. But even if guilt works, I'm not going to use it. Kenshin's got enough problems with that as it is._ Sano folded his arms, bracing the fishing pole with his foot.

After a long and uncomfortable silence, Kenshin reluctantly set the papers aside. "Very well, Sano." He took a deep breath. "Do you remember in Mt Hiei, the way Yumi-dono died?"

Sano got an itchy feeling between his shoulders like somehow Kenshin had turned the tables without seeming to and now instead of being tested, Kenshin was the one doing the testing. He couldn't remember the last time Kenshin had tested him. Maybe he never had. And maybe he was wrong, and Kenshin was just telling him where the problem started. Whichever it was, Sano was feeling distinctly on edge. Maybe as on edge as Kenshin was if the set of the shorter man's shoulders was a good indication. He nodded cautiously. "Yeah. I remember."

If anything, Kenshin seemed to get more wound up by his response. "That wasn't the first time that's happened, Sano," Kenshin said softly. "Kaoru-dono did that in May. She stepped between Saitou and this one. And—"

"That wasn't the same at all, Kenshin." Sano saw where this was headed, and this time he couldn't stop himself from interrupting before Kenshin launched himself into the sort of self-deprecating bullshit the man was so fond of. "I was there. Both times. You didn't skewer Jou-chan to get to Saitou, Kenshin. And you wouldn't. Not in a million years. You're not a monster like Shishio, and you've got to stop thinking of yourself as one."

Kenshin blinked, and then plucked a blade of grass to fiddle with.

Sano frowned. "Is this about her grabbing you out in the yard that night?" He thought it might be, given the way he'd wanted Tomoe to stay back while he washed the blood off. "I'll tell her not to do it again, Kenshin. We'll find a different way to get you back on the bad nights."

"Thank you, Sano," Kenshin murmured. He stretched out on the grass, propping his chin up on his fists as he scanned the page currently at the top of the stack. "Gomen," he apologized woodenly, "but these reports really do need to be read."

Sano watched him for a moment, knowing he'd missed something but not sure what it was. He picked the fishing pole back up and stared at the water. Perhaps that _had_ been a test. It didn't seem like he'd passed. The papers rustled as Kenshin shifted to the next page, and Sano drew in his line and recast. If it was a test and he'd failed, he wondered how. _Well, Sano_, he thought. _Let's play a game of reasoning_. Maybe he could dig deep enough between what Kenshin had actually said to figure out what Kenshin was trying to say.

Kenshin had started with Mt Hiei, with Yumi's death. Sano recreated the scene in his mind: Shishio beaten and losing, the woman running in front to protect him, Kenshin—that idiot—lowering his sword, and Shishio killing the woman protecting him just to get at the enemy. Sano could see how the whole thing would upset Kenshin. It had upset him, too. Even Saitou and Aoshi had been appalled.

And somehow, Kenshin had linked that to the fight with Saitou earlier. Kenshin _had_ been losing at that point. It had taken a while for Saitou to wear down Kenshin's defenses to the point of losing control. But he'd just firmly moved Kaoru out of the way before launching himself at Saitou again. It wasn't at all the same as Mt Hiei. _But it still bothered him_, Sano thought. _It bothered him that Jou-chan would be in danger. That she'd _put_ herself in danger. That she might have gotten hurt. That…_ Sano felt a chill. _That he might have hurt her himself_.

That must have been the connection, Sano realized. And then in the yard, when confronted with "Tomoe," Kenshin had been upset, too. He'd mentioned rumors, but Sano could tell he was just trying to keep this woman, whoever she was, from being involved. From being hurt. It made sense that a kid who'd killed that many would be afraid of hurting someone he cared about. It was only natural. _Hell_, he thought, _I was afraid, too, watching her just reach out and tackle him like that_.

And now that he thought more about how Kenshin had reacted to being manhandled… he could sort of see it. Kenshin had wanted out, but he hadn't been willing to use force to get free. He'd been, perhaps, afraid of hurting this Tomoe person. It was the kind of sentiment Sano had grown to expect from Kenshin, and it was nice to see it displayed so early on. But he _hadn't_ hurt Kaoru that night, or ever. And he wouldn't. And Sano doubted Kenshin would have hurt this Tomoe woman, either. Even after she saw him kill. He may not know all the inner workings of Kenshin's mind—or even half of those workings—but the man wasn't a monster, whatever he thought of himself. Now Sano just had to find a better way to convince Kenshin of what everyone else already knew.

Sano realized that it had been a long time since he'd heard any papers rustling, and glanced over at Kenshin. He bit back the laugh that followed on the heels of his shock. The redhead had somehow fallen fast asleep sprawled across his paperwork. _Not that I blame him_, Sano thought. Kenshin hadn't slept last night, and given his choice of reading material, Sano was impressed he'd made it through the first third before passing out.

He pulled in the line and slid more bait on the hook, resolving to pay more attention to the fishing for a while before returning to the deep thinking. He'd never hear the end of it if he spent the day fishing with Kenshin and they _still_ had to stop in town to buy fish for dinner. Another hour or so increased the number of fish in the bucket to a more respectable amount.

That he could see, the biggest part of the problem, aside from Kenshin's own tendency to hoard information and not share, was that he didn't understand. This whole thing was like a huge puzzle with thousands of pieces, but Sano didn't even know what those pieces looked like, or what shape they were. How was he supposed to put this puzzle together and keep Kenshin sane through all this if Kenshin was hiding half the pieces?

It had almost gotten both him and Kaoru in trouble already. Sano remembered the concerned look Kenshin had given him and the hand against his forehead when he'd asked about Iizuka. And neither of them had expected there to be a woman at the inn. Sano rubbed a hand through his hair and dug up his memories of last night's medical interrogation. Kenshin had refused to talk about any comrades in the Ishin Shishi, despite this Iizuka person who apparently had felt comfortable enough around the Battousai to comment on a wound that kept reopening. Was it Kenshin's normal evasion, or was there something about Iizuka that warranted the silence?

Sano dragged another fish up out of the water and reset the line, pausing to stretch before settling back down to wait. If he was going to be safe around a drifting Kenshin, he had to know what sorts of comments would be dangerous to make. It was one thing for "Sano-san" to get a thing wrong occasionally, but he had to know something about the normal Ishin Shishi goings on if this was going to work. And the only source for this information was face down in the world's most boring spy report.

Sano tried to judge the time of day based on the sun. He was nowhere near as good at it as Katsu always had been, but he figured they'd been out here for a long while. Much as he hated waking someone so clearly deserving of sleep, they needed to head back soon, and Sano had to get some information on those puzzle pieces before they were walking where people could overhear them.

He reached out with his foot to give Kenshin's shoulder a little nudge, thinking it was a gentle enough way to wake him up. Gentler, anyway, than some of the ways he'd been woken up in his life. Almost before he'd finished the nudge, Sano heard the soft click of a sword being thumbed from its sheath and saw Kenshin crouched on the grass with the scattered paperwork between them.

"Gomen, Sano," Kenshin breathed, setting the sword gently to one side. "You startled me."

"Yeah, I guess." Sano made a mental note not to wake Kenshin up unless he was a good distance away. He watched Kenshin slowly shuffle the papers back into their stacks of 'read' and 'unread,' and tried to control his own breathing while his friend sorted. In all likelihood, he deserved the scare for waking Kenshin up like that. This realization didn't make his heart slow down, though.

_Time to try again, _he thought_. Any pieces are better than none_. "I was thinking, Kenshin."

Kenshin looked up from his work, giving him room to talk.

Sano took a deep breath and resolved that this would be a more successful attempt than his earlier one today. "I need to know some stuff. I've talked with you when you come back thinking it's Kyoto all over again. It's hard to carry on a conversation with you like that, you know?" He paused, giving Kenshin a chance to reply. All he got was a blink.

He decided to interpret the blink as an invitation to continue. "I'm not going to be able to fake it for long. I need to know what kinds of things were routine back then. What did you come home to? Did you report in, or just wash the blood off and go to bed? How did people react around you? And for that matter, who _were_ the people around you? Like Iizuka. Who's Iizuka?"

Kenshin's face twisted into a scowl, and he went back to straightening the papers at his feet for a moment before looking back up at Sano with a lack of expression that was almost an expression in itself. "Iizuka was this one's field inspector, Sano."

Despite the tone and newly blank demeanor that clearly signaled Kenshin's desire to end the conversation right then and there, Sano nodded and pressed on. "Okay. 'Field inspector.' What's that mean?" After all, Kenshin had point blank refused to talk about where he learned to fold medicine packets, but he'd at least answered this question about Iizuka. That was opening enough, in Sano's mind.

Kenshin sighed, apparently resigned to the follow-up questions. "It means he followed after this one and put a tenchuu flyer on the corpses."

Sano motioned for Kenshin to sit back down and was a touch surprised when the man obeyed. "Why?"

"That was what passed for cleaning up my messes," Kenshin muttered.

"Huh." Well that sounded like a suitably gruesome job. Sano'd seen enough just watching Kenshin come home. He'd rather not have to see the victims in the street, let alone decorate them. "Guess they wanted to make sure the message wasn't misinterpreted." Sano held the fishing pole out to Kenshin, thinking this would go a lot easier if Kenshin had something to do while fielding questions. It took a minute, but eventually Kenshin got the hint and accepted the offering.

"You know, Kenshin," Sano started again, "it's sort of odd. When you first brought him up, you didn't seem to care about him one way or another. But I'm getting the feeling now that you don't like him." And wasn't that an understatement? Sano hadn't seen Kenshin react to a name like that in a long while. "Was it the flyers, or did you resent having a field inspector that much?"

Kenshin stared out at the water where the line disappeared. "He was also a Bakufu spy," he said softly, his eyes not wavering in the slightest.

Sano thought for a minute that he'd heard wrong. Then he started to _hope _he'd heard wrong. By the time Kenshin had recast the line so it fell only a few feet from the riverbank, Sano reluctantly acknowledged that he'd heard right. The implications of a traitor so close to the heart of the Ishin Shishi that he had knowledge of Kenshin's every assignment… Clearly, the man had been discovered at some point. And Sano knew as well as anyone what would happen to such a spy.

"Then I guess you were ordered to—"

Kenshin shook his head sharply, cutting him off. "He was Shishio's first assignment. Katsura-san thought it would be kinder if I never learned the details. What next?"

_Kinder?_ Sano let out a breath. If Katsura thought he needed to protect Kenshin from the details of this guy's death, then whatever betrayal had happened, it had struck close to home. _Great. Kenshin always _was_ good at collecting personal enemies where other people found casual opponents._ And the terseness of his words clearly said the conversation was over. Except… Sano ran the last bit through his mind again. "Wait. 'What next?' Seriously?" Was Kenshin actually willing to talk to him?

"Sano, you said you wanted to know enough to interact with this one." Kenshin turned to look at him briefly before returning his attention to the river. "Fine. It will keep you safer, that it will. What do you want to know?"

"What are you willing to tell me?"

Kenshin smiled bitterly. "This one would rather not tell you anything. He'd like it if his life began when he walked into Tokyo a year ago. But you have a point. And," he trailed off for a moment. When he continued, he sounded almost confused, as though he was searching for answers as much as Sano. "And if this one is to have an anchor, then wouldn't the anchor need to be attached somehow?"

"I don't know anything about anchors or boats or stuff, Kenshin. I just want to be able to fake the Bakumatsu well enough to drag you back into the Meiji era when you get home." _And I don't want to ruin this by asking about something that'll make you clam up again_. Sano searched around for a safe topic. "Let's say it's Kyoto still and you come home from an assignment, and everything went the way it was supposed to. From what I've seen, you sneak in, wash up, and generally try to drive people away." He leaned back on his arms. "How accurate is that?"

"There was no sneaking, Sano." Kenshin almost smiled. "This one tried it several times, and it never worked. Okami-san was always awake when you didn't want her to be."

"You just waltzed in all bloody?"

He shook his head and snapped his wrists up, bringing a fish clear out of the water and onto the grass with the upswing. "Not waltzed. Just…" Kenshin shrugged and handed the fish to Sano. "Walked in. And scrubbed my hands raw. Okami-san kept bento in the kitchen for men who were out late. She was almost never up at night, unless you had something you wanted to hide from her."

Sano watched Kenshin slide bait onto the hook and toss the line back out, close to the shore like the last time. He wondered at a woman who could catch Kenshin sneaking. _She must have been ninja-trained. _I_ got spooked out of my mind while keeping my eyes peeled for the man_. "How many guys were there, anyway? I thought it was a bit more hush-hush than that." Hopefully, Kenshin's answer would give him some insight into the day to day goings on, or at least lead up to it.

Kenshin thought for a moment, and then shrugged again. "A dozen or so, on rotation. Mostly samurai from Choshu-han."

Sano nodded and tried to gauge whether the shorter sentences were a sign that Kenshin was getting ready to end the talk. He already had an idea about the sort of interactions, or lack of them, Kenshin had been used to, but he needed something a bit more concrete. Iizuka had felt comfortable enough to talk to him, sure, but if the traitor was the only one, then friendly 'Sano-san' wouldn't be safe for very long.

"Okay," Sano said. He still needed to find out what the other Ishin Shishi had been like in that inn. He tried again. "I bet no one bugged you at night. How about the rest of the time? What was the inn like during the day? What were the men like?"

"The inn was quiet. This one slept late, didn't interact with the others if it could be avoided."

Sano eyed a passing cloud and tried to keep the frustration out of his voice. "All right. I'm asking the wrong questions, I think." He cleared his mind and focused on the one piece of information he needed the most. "Let's try this. Kenshin, I want you to tell me how Sano-san is supposed to act. What he's supposed to know. I need to know what 'normal' is. I need to know how to play along, how to seem like I fit. Wasn't there anyone who'd talk to you at night? Someone who didn't also talk to the Shogunate?"

"What should 'Sano-san' know?" Kenshin thought for a moment, the serious expression ghosting back over his face. "Don't volunteer specific information. Asking about people might be a bad idea, too. Stick to the personal, Sano. If you run into trouble, use Katsura-san or Kategai-san as an excuse."

"An excuse?" Sano scratched his head. "You mean play like I'm following orders or something?" He saw Kenshin's nod and waited a moment for the rest. When the rest didn't come, he prompted for it. "And the other?"

Kenshin looked over at him. "You mean who really talked to this one?" He shrugged. "Only 'Sano-san,' and Katsura-san once or twice. Just be yourself," he suggested, twirling the bamboo pole in his palms and turning back toward the water. "The men were all afraid of me. On some level that hurt, but I encouraged it. It was safer to keep them at a distance. But…" he trailed off.

"Be myself, huh?" Sano guessed that would work in a way. "There wasn't anyone else? Really?" He saw Kenshin's head shake out of the corner of his eye and wanted to thump whoever had been stationed at that inn with a hurting teenager and done nothing about it. And Katsura, who not only allowed it, but started it all. That kind of neglect would never have been tolerated in the Sekihotai. At least not his unit.

Sano brushed those thoughts aside and sat up straight holding a finger in the air. "Well, there's one thing, at least." He lowered his finger to jab it at Kenshin. "You're going to start taking that medicine Megumi left for you."

Kenshin frowned at him, ignoring the finger entirely. "This one has no intentions of—"

"Listen," Sano interrupted. "That was a mistake. It was some kind of drug for doing surgery or something. This new stuff won't do that to you," he reasoned. "It's what she meant to give you in the first place."

Kenshin shook his head. "No more medicine. This one shouldn't have taken the other, even."

"You can't keep going like this," Sano insisted. There was no way a guy as smart as Kenshin couldn't _see _the problem with working mornings, afternoons, and evenings, and then staring at a wall all night because of nightmares. This was just plain mulishness. "You need to sleep."

"This one does sleep, Sano."

"No." He folded his arms over his chest and glared. "You don't. You do laundry. You make breakfast and chop firewood. You clean the yard. You don't make much noise in the mornings, but no one's fooled."

Kenshin returned the glare with a somewhat petulant one of his own. "Sano, I don't like taking medicine."

"Tough. I don't like eating Jou-chan's cooking, but I've been doing it almost every night since you started this job last week. The least you can do to make it up to me is take this medicine." Sano met Kenshin's silence with all the stubborn authority he could muster. He'd stood his ground about Kyoto and Shishio, and he'd stand his ground here, too.

"I'm not asking," he growled. "You need some real sleep, and you aren't getting any. You're sabotaging yourself here, Kenshin. Megumi's right. If you get enough sleep we might not even have to worry about what things were like in Kyoto."

At Kenshin's continued silence, Sano tried again, dropping the challenge for an honest plea. "Kenshin, you're tearing yourself apart, and this is one of the only ways I can actively help keep you together. Please. _Let me help_."

And that seemed to do it. Kenshin nodded, letting his shoulders drop as he conceded. "One week, Sano."

"Good." A week wasn't much, but if there were positive results—and he was sure there would be—Kenshin might be convinced to continue. "I'll take what I can get. And _you're_ taking the medicine. Starting tonight."

Kenshin held up a hand. "And on one condition."

Sano was suddenly wary. He could think of a dozen conditions Kenshin might be interested in that he'd rather not grant. "What's the condition?" he asked.

His attention now completely on Sano, Kenshin paused before speaking. "You are planning to speak with Yahiko about what happened this morning. _Don't_."

"Kenshin, if this is more of your—"

"You wish to help," Kenshin interrupted. "Then help this one protect Yahiko. He is right, Sano. It is wrong to murder people, even if the goal is a good one. Even the lowest of the yakuza deserve a chance at life, that they do. Yet this one has become a hitokiri again, despite that." He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Sano, I do not want that boy's idealism to be corrupted by what this one does. Yahiko looks up to this one, and to see a role model trying to bring a world of peace and equality through murder…"

Kenshin set the fishing pole on the grass gently, as though it was too fragile to be held. "If Yahiko were to believe that this one finds murder to somehow be the _right _way to solve a problem, the _best_ way," he trailed off yet again, obviously frustrated. "He is in many ways more perceptive than I was at that age, but he's still young, Sano. His idealism burns brightly, and that is both good and dangerous to him."

Kenshin met Sano's eyes with an honest plea of his own to match Sano's earlier one. "Help me keep him from being destroyed as this one was. Let this morning's conversation go, Sano. Don't try to convince him that this one's actions are right. They aren't. I'm far from perfect."

Sano nodded mutely, surprised to have gotten so much out of Kenshin with such a small question, when all his calculated attempts had failed earlier. He reached for the fishing pole and wrapped the line around it, slipping the hook under one of the wraps to keep it in place. He really hadn't thought that telling Yahiko to lay off the backtalk would potentially have the sort of effect Kenshin was worried about. But he could see it now, a little. Sano wondered briefly what Kenshin had been like before Kyoto and the Bakumatsu.

"You really do think this is wrong, what you're doing at night." It had to be asked. Sano knew the answer, but he wanted to hear Kenshin say it, wanted to hear his defense of a decision he knew to be the wrong one. He'd support Kenshin regardless, in whatever ways he could, but he had to hear it.

Kenshin nodded firmly, his mouth set in a line. "Yes, Sano. Just as it was wrong in Kyoto. But… there's so much death on the streets, Sano. So many innocents are suffering, and this is _Meiji!_" His clenched fists matched the pained betrayal Sano heard in his voice. "It wasn't supposed to _be_ like this, Sano. This one killed almost every night for years, and it might as well be worth nothing."

"Not 'nothing,' Kenshin. Just maybe not all you'd hoped for." Sano wondered how Captain Sagara would have felt looking on the current times. However much he might hate the imperialists, Sano had to admit there were some improvements. "And you said it yourself, anyway. That it's not over yet. That there's still work to be done."

"Sano," Kenshin muttered, "this 'fresh start' feels as sour as the old era under Tokugawa. None of this is right." He shook his head, stared down at the grass. "And I don't know how to fix it. If the only way this one can protect the innocent is to murder the wicked in the streets… I don't know, Sano, that I don't."

"Well, what are your ideas, then?" He'd said at breakfast he couldn't see the right answer, and now that he didn't know. But Sano knew Kenshin well enough to know the man was tossing ideas around left and right underneath all that red hair. _And who knows?_ he thought. _If Kenshin's finally decided to take me up on my offer and actually lean on me, maybe I can help_.

Kenshin sighed, and rolled his head back to stare at the clouds. "Saitou says, 'embrace the killing.' I can't do that," he breathed.

"Good." _Embrace the killing?_ Sano mentally repeated, cursing the wolf for even suggesting it. _What kind of advice is _that_, you freak?_ At least Kenshin knew better.

"I can't embrace it, Sano. But I can't turn back, either."

* * *

Notes again: Whew! Now that we've finally got all the introspective reaction shots out of the way, we can move the plot forward a bit. Stuff will actually happen next time!


End file.
